Someone Like You
by Claire Starling
Summary: DISCONTINUED. Erik and Christine are destined to be apart, left forever yearning for the other. Can one girl really change all of that? Or is fate too strong to change? Not another woman story
1. If Someone Like You

CS: Okay, this is my new Phantom story... I hope everyone likes it. Oi, and just a note... I LOVE ERIK! *hugs Erik*  
ERIK: Having... problems...breathing! *starting to turn blue*  
CS:*is completely oblivious* Please read my fic! And above all, enjoy! *starts and drops Erik*  
ERIK: *breathes in the sweet oxygen of life, gasping*  
CS: That's right! I recently saw "The Phantom of the Opera" 1990/1 with Charles Dance and Teri Polo (yes, the one from Meet the Parents). I L O V E D it. Although it took many- MANY liberties. But it was very romantic. And Raoul was a PIMP! *laughs hysterically*  
Raoul: *doesn't get it* My name isn't Raoul...  
CS: Oh, yeah- his name is Phillipe in this version... Anyway... this is the IMPORTANT part of all this bantering  
ERIK: *muttering* finally...  
CS: Shup up, Pimp Daddy Erik!  
ERIK: *is suddenly in a pimp jacket and platforms- his hair a big fro and his mask is the "gold shinny" one* Oh... dear god...   
CS: *giggles* ANNNNNNNYWHO- Christine is BLONDE! BLONDE BLONDE BLONDE! In both the original, the Charles Dance version, and this story. Be sure to remember that. This is my cast page for these characters: http://clairestarling.tripod.com  
So, continue on!  
*the 900 numba comes on and she and a very VERY reluctant Erik dance to it*  
  
DISCLAIMER: Um... this is the part where I am supposed to say I don't own Erik right? Shit.  
  
Someone Like You: Chapter One  
  
A loud piercing scream filled the air, cutting the thick silence like a knife through butter.  
  
Erik started as he heard it. He had been wandering the halls of his Opera House, making sure all was in order. It had been several months since the crash of the chandelier and Christine was sparse at the opera house. Erik had been huffing about for weeks, but what could he expect? After all, there was no way like saying "I love you" than smashing a chandelier at your true loves feet.   
  
The sounds of light, fast, and fumbling footsteps came first. A woman, not very old, and in very good shape. Perhaps she was a dancer. Then came the sound of two pairs of thundering feet, like a stampede. Their crude laughter filled the air and Erik had an idea of what they were trying to do to the girl. Using a secret passage, he climbed the steps to their floor and remained in the shadows to analyze the situation. The young woman rounded the bend, her hand running along the wall. She couldn't have been as old as Christine was, but she wasn't as young as Meg. Her hair was in her face so it was impossible to see who it was. But her dress was ripped in several places, the largest tear running from her abdomen to the seam of her dress. She had red splotches on several areas of bare skin, foreshadowing the bruises that would form later. Erik had never seen a woman's bare legs before.  
  
He nearly cried out in horror as the two men from earlier, who were nearly Erik's age, caught her and pulled her down. Erik's hand tightened around his lasso, formulating a plan as his anger built. They laughed as she struck out blindly, finally racking her long nails across one of their cheeks, drawing blood. His eyes grew fierce as he pulled back to give the girl a right hook. Erik had almost stepped out of the shadows to attack when something amazing happened. Just as the fist was about to strike her face, her left hand caught his fist. Grasping his thumb, she yanked it back almost to the breaking point, making the man cry out in pain. Using his weight, she jostled him onto the other man.  
  
Rising, the girl started running again, her hand running along the wall. She stopped when she found a door. The door to box five. Erik wanted her out of harms way, so he pressed a counterweight and the door swung open. The girl stumbled inside, slammed the door quickly, and locked it.   
  
When Erik heard the bolt slide into place, he came out of the shadows. The two men were up now, ready to bang down the door. As they ran towards Erik's box, a lasso caught one around the neck. With a jerk and a loud snap, the man died before he hit the floor, the lasso already retracted. The surviving man turned around and cried out when he saw his dead friend on the floor.  
"Philipe!"   
He looked at the murderer and immediately knew his fate.  
"Phantom!" he whispered.  
He turned and ran, hoping to escape from this ghost. He turned back to see if the Phantom was close by. Of course, for those of you who have read or seen every horror movie out there, that is the absolutely, positively, worst thing you could possibly do. Which would explain why people keep doing it every single time. The last thing the man ever saw was a flash of white before he was tossed over the balcony railing. He should have learned that, when falling from a great height, never catch yourself with your head. But he would have plenty of time to berate himself for it in hell.  
  
He had to get rid of the bodies before handling the girl. If she had gone by the time he returned, he would watch over her for a while until he was certain she was safe. Otherwise… well, he would deal with that when the situation presented itself.  
  
In one hour, both bodies had been dragged to his lake, minus all valuable possessions (a pouch that had thirty francs and a sapphire ring), weighted down, and dumped. Returning to the surface, Erik went straight for his secret passage in the column of his box. He listened carefully, but heard no noise. Perhaps the girl had left? But when he opened the column, he discovered the girl on the floor, unconscious.   
  
Now, this is one of those moments when the main character has to make one of those choices that will effect the whole story. Erik was choosing between what his conscious said and what his common sense said. His conscious said that it was Saturday and no one would be here until Sunday. He didn't know when she would wake up and if she did, if she would be lucid or not. His common sense said that he couldn't stand another Christine. But he didn't love the girl; in fact, he didn't even know who she was.  
  
He looked down at her. She looked nothing like Christine. Her hair was dark like his, and straight, only curving to surround her face. Her olive skin was fair, with freckles dotting at her high cheekbones and across her soft nose. Her Egyptian eyes were closed, hiding their color from him. Her puffy lips were rosy, but also split and bleeding. She was slightly taller than Christine was- a little plumper, but with more of a figure. She had a scar on her left eyebrow, distorting the shape of it. But oddly enough, on her it looked as if it belonged.   
  
Sighing, Erik lifted the girl into his arms. She wasn't heavy like the two bodies he had lifted earlier. But then again, she wasn't feather light like Christine. He gave into his conscious as he descended down into his lair. He didn't know what to say to the girl when she saw his mask, or where she was, or when she asked who he was…   
  
But currently, Erik wanted to take her bellow, row her across the lake, lay her in the spare room, and treat her wounds.   
  
When Erik looks back on this years from now he wont know whether he should curse himself for his decision or dance around in celebration of it. 


	2. Found Someone Like Me

Disclaimer: erg, in an RPG I own 'em... that has to count for something... at least Erik's toenail...  
  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
...Found Someone Like me...  
The girl stirred. She had been unconscious for three days now. And though Erik hated to admit it, he had been getting worried. She had developed a fever that soared so high. Her skin was practically on fire. And then she started to go into seizures. But her fever had broken last night at around one in the morning. And now she looked as if she would wake any minute. He wondered how she would react to his mask.   
Her eyes fluttered and opened. The lighting was dim to help her adjust to being awake. Plus, he always liked minimum candlelight.   
  
"Good evening," his angelic voice wrapped around the young girl.  
  
He gave her credit she didn't jump. However, she did slowly sit up so she could look at him.  
  
"You're," her voice croaked. Erik held out a glass of water. She didn't seem to see it so he pressed it to her hand.  
  
"Here," he whispered.  
  
She took the glass and slowly finished it. When she was done, she handed it back to him. "Thank you," she spoke with true gratitude. "Now I know you cannot be one of them."  
  
Erik's eyebrow arched. "One of them?"  
  
"One of the men who were chasing me," she explained.  
  
He nodded slowly and looked at her full in the face. She didn't flinch or seem to notice at all. There was no change on her face.  
  
A smile curled her lips as she looked down modestly before she looked back at him. "Then you saved me?"  
  
"Yes," he said. "I saw you running and made sure the door opened."  
  
She smiled widely. "Then I owe you my extreme gratitude."   
  
The girl leaned foreword and before he knew what she was doing, the girl's arms wrapped around him. He stiffened. The girl was hugging him? The affection was foreign but at the same time, strangely comforting. But how could she not see the mask? He pulled back slowly.  
  
"Your welcome, mon petite," Erik said to the young girl. "What is your name?"  
  
"Dawn, Dawn Mastin. I'm from England," Dawn replied quietly.  
  
"You have an incredible french accent. I never would have known." Erik told her, amazed. He was impressed. It was perfect.  
  
"I am skilled in many languages including English, French, Latin, and Italian," Dawn said.  
  
"How did you learn so many, you don't look that old."  
  
"I'm nineteen and I taught them to myself," Dawn said, looking away. "And you, monsieur," she looked at him again, "do you have a name too?"  
  
He paused. His name was sacred, very few knew it. But from the intelligence he could see in her, he doubt the 'angel of music' story would hold. "I am Erik."  
  
"Erik," she tested the name on her tongue. "What a beautiful name."  
  
No one had ever told him that before. He smiled at her when something finally caught his attention. She wasn't looking directly at him, more in his general direction, or just past him. He glanced over her shoulder but he knew no one was there. Now curious, he looked closer. Her beautiful hazel eyes were covered with a barely noticeable milky film. Carefully, he waved his hand in front of her eyes. No reaction, she didn't even blink. He repeated the action again. Still no reaction. He did it once more for good measure, but was stopped by her iron grip around his wrist. Although she was not as strong as he was, she still was incredibly strong for a woman, let alone a young woman.  
  
"Please don't do that," she whispered as she released his arm. "It makes me feel like a freak."  
  
He knew what she felt and looked at her curiously one more time before stating, "You're blind."  
  
-*-  
  
ERIK: Review or I will make sure all Michael Crawford CDs disappear from the face of the Earth.  
CS: He'll do IT! 


	3. Then, Suddenly

Disclaimer: I know you thought I did... but I don't. Legally.  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
...Then, Suddenly...  
  
Dawn frowned and released his wrist before hissing, "Yes, thank you for pointing out that I'm a freak!"  
  
Erik nearly laughed out loud at her remark. If only she knew. He froze when his eyes caught something resting just behind her left shoulder. A scar from a burn distorted her skin. He was about to ask about it when she spoke.  
  
"I'm sorry," she sighed. "You've been so nice to me and I just lashed out at you. Sometimes I just can't control my temper."  
  
Erik smiled. He and the girl had many similarities. "I know the feeling, I too have a quick temper."  
  
Erik paused. He had no idea why he was opening up to this child so easily. Perhaps it was the haunted look in her unseeing eyes, the look that one so young should not possess. The eyes that suddenly blazed with fire when she was mad. Her spirit was so alike to his.  
  
"That's quite a grip you have…" he commented. His wrist still ached, he didn't think he'd have a bruise but it would hurt for a little while.  
  
"Oh," she blushed. "Forgive me if I hurt you. I've built up my strength and honed my senses so that I can defend myself against people that want to take advantage of my… disability."  
  
Erik nodded, "It must be hard… not being able to see."  
  
A sad smile came onto her face; "You don't know half of it. It's especially hard because I am- was an artist. I'm like a deaf musician, a bird with one wing… hopeless."  
  
Erik frowned, "I've upset you again."  
  
He thought about what Dawn had said. If he were deaf, he'd be lost. He would be stuck in a swirling pool of silence, unable to feel the passion that was his music. How could he survive without hearing his organ, his piano, his flute, his violin, and Christine…  
  
"Wait," he said as he recalled what she had told him. "You were an artist?"  
  
"Once," she said quietly. "Now without my eyes… I don't know who I am."  
  
Erik pursued with caution, "If you don't mind me asking… how did you loose your eyesight?"   
  
The girl winced but covered it extremely well with a yawn. "I'm still exhausted. Would you mind if I went back to sleep? The toll of this emotional and physical strain is still upon me."  
  
So, she didn't want to talk about it. Understandable, after all, they had just met. But still, he wondered what dark secrets were hidden behind her childish face…  
  
"Of course. I'm a little tired myself. I bid you goodnight then."   
  
Erik got up and put the chair he had previously occupied back into it's rightful spot. He poked the fire to make sure it was still roaring.  
  
"Goodnight," she answered.  
  
He smiled and was about to leave when he heard her small voice, "Oh, Erik?"  
  
He paused in the doorway, "Yes?"  
  
"Pleasant dreams."  
  
As Erik lay down in his coffin, he thought about the stranger who cared for him enough to wish him sweet dreams.   
  
-*-  
  
New Rule:  
  
5 reviews= New chapter  
  
I told you I was a feedback whore! I need the loving! 


	4. Nothing Would Ever Be the Same

Disclaimer: Scientists say that one out of four people are insane. So ask three of your friends, if they're okay- then it's you. I don't know how this is relivant. *evil grin/smirk*  
A promise kept.  
A new chapter.  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
...nothing would ever be the same.  
  
The first thing that Erik was aware of was the smell of his favorite tea. The spicy Russian blend roused him from his slumber, his stomach growling like he hadn't eaten in days. In which, Erik could testify as true.  
Slowly, his eyes opened to see the coffin cover. Sighing, he opened it up as his third sense came into play. Music…. Someone was playing on his grand piano. Putting on his mask, he stepped out of his room and crossed the study. As he got closer, he could here a mezzo soprano singing to the sad song. He listened outside the door to his music room as she sang.  
"Look at me   
And tell me who I am  
Why I am   
What I am  
  
Call me a fool  
And it's true I am  
I don't know who I am.  
  
It's such a shame  
I'm such a sham  
No one knows who I am."  
  
Erik stepped into the room; his eyes grew wide as he saw it was Dawn playing the piano. Although he knew no one else could have gotten into his home, he didn't think Dawn would be capable to play the piano. She was blind, how could she see the correct keys? But that didn't seem to phase Dawn. Her unseeing eyes were shut tight as she sung, he throaty, elegant voice floating out- full of passion.  
  
"Once there were sweet possibilities  
I could see  
Just for me  
  
Now all my dreams are just memories  
Faded  
Never to be  
  
Time's not a friend  
Hurrying by  
I wonder who I am."  
  
Erik watched her play. And for the first time, as if outside the haze of Christine, he noticed how beautiful she was. Her hair was dark against her fair, fair skin. Her face glowed in the candlelight, and the passion was so evident in the way she played, sang, and sat. But he didn't love her… however the lust was obvious.  
  
"Am I the face of the future?  
Am I the face of the past?  
Am I the one who must finish…  
Last?"  
  
She was so much like him. With Christine, especially he felt as if he was always a step behind. That no matter what he did, he would always finish last. He shut his eyes to enjoy the music.  
  
"Look at me and tell me who I am  
What I am  
Why I am  
  
Will I survive?  
Who will give a damn?  
If no one knows who I am…"  
  
Erik felt the connection between him and the girl grow stronger. She knew him; she knew what it was like. To be him… to feel like he did… to feel alone and without hope.  
  
"Nobody knows…  
Not even you…  
No one knows who I am…"  
  
She held the note out, her clear voice quiet, yet loud in it's intensity. Erik's eyes snapped open and he stepped closer to her.  
  
"Bravo, my dear, that was excellent."  
  
Clearly startled, Dawn gasps and turns. Her face was turning red from embarrassment.  
"I was unaware that I was being watched," she paused. "But thank you for your compliment."  
"You are very welcome, child." He paused, examining her before sitting beside her on the piano bench. "Tell me, how can you play?"  
She froze at how close he was. Shifting a bit, she placed her hands back on the keys. "Simply really, I memorized where the keys are." She glanced in my direction. "Surely you can play with your eyes closed?"  
He smirked, "How do you know I play?"  
"Your hands have calluses on them. So I knew that you had to play some kind of string instrument. And your voice, the way you speak, it is that of a singer. And I'm guessing you are not the type that just has pianos and organs lying about for show."  
He chuckled. "Right you are, little one. I do play, yes. Piano, organ, violin, flute… and many others."  
"Organs are lovely… I remember, when I used to sleep inside churches… the sound of a mass in the morning, lovely."   
"You are Christian, then?"  
Dawn frowned. "No. I was raised one at first… my mother told me I was a bane and would continue to be until I had accepted God and Jesus. I was four when I learned what bane was… my mother never called me by my name you know… she always called me Bane…" she paused. "Curse."  
Erik frowned as well. 'Fond' memories of his mother arose. "Indeed, my mother did not like me either." He paused. "Why did your mother think you were a curse?"  
"I had gotten the evil eye. She thought I was Satan's child, not hers. Sent to punish her for cheating on my father. But before that? She thought I was a sin. God taught her not to give into the original sin but she did."  
Erik noticed that her hands had tightened around the piano. He knew that had she been holding a glass it would have shattered.  
"Did you make tea?" He asked, hoping to change the subject.  
"Yes," she said, getting up and walking to the table where it was laid. "Russian tea… with lemon," she paused. "I hope you don't mind me invading your kitchen."  
"No, not at all," He sat down and watched as she sat across from him. "How did you know where it was?"  
"Smell," she said. " And touch. I got to know your kitchen…" She took a sip of her tea. "You don't eat much but you have a wine cellar."  
"How'd you-?"  
"The hallow wood on the floor and the stock of nonperishable food." She looked at him . "Hardly any of it was eaten and I could tell it had been there for a little bit."  
He took a sip of his tea. "Mm, this is good." He drank his entire cup in one gulp, pouring another.   
She chuckled, hearing him. "I have been told that I'm an excellent cook."  
"So, tell me, did you compose that piece?" He asked, taking another sip.  
She nodded. "I did."  
"Do you compose often?" He asked, watching her.  
"Yes, it's the closest I can get to painting," she said, sadly.  
"You really do love to paint?" he asked.  
"Oh yes, with a passion." She pulled something out of her dressing gown pocket. It was a tattered piece of paper. "It's a bit old but… this was the last piece I did…"  
She handed him the paper and he opened it. And gasped. It was incredibly well done and horrifying.  
In the picture, it was a face of a young girl. Her lips were pouting and tears of blood were streaming down her face. The most vivid part of the picture was however, was the fact that the girl's hair was on fire. In the fire, there were warped pictures. One of a reflection in a shattered mirror. One of a woman pressing a cross into the girls face. One of demons lurking over a person's sleeping body. The last one of a black rose. He shut the page, almost hearing the scream that was resonating from it.  
"Who is the girl in the picture?"  
"Me," she whispered. "I was eight when I drew that. I was blinded three days later, the night of my ninth birthday. I ran away four weeks later."  
"Where did you get this idea?" He asked, opening the picture again, gazing at it cautiously.  
"It was my life, except the shadows… that was my dream."  
"Your dream?" he inquired.  
"I dreamt that I really was Satan's child. And he sent his demons to bring me home." She held her hand out for the picture. He handed it back and touched her wrist.  
"She's not going to hurt you again," Erik said, wishing he could look into her eyes.  
"No," Dawn said as she stood, "she doesn't need to. She did enough damage the first time."   
She turned away and pushed in her chair. She turned back slightly.   
"I'm glad you enjoyed the tea, if you'll excuse me. I think… I'm going to take a nap." Her eyes were teary and her chin was trembling but she didn't let the threatening tears spill over.  
She walked over to the door to the music room. She turned the knob and opened the door. Before she left, however, she said, "I know you wear a mask." She looked at his shocked face, not really seeing his expression. "Maybe during our next conversation, you'll tell me why."  
And with that, she left a stunned Erik, alone.  
  
-*-  
  
Same rules apply! 5 reviews= New chapter  
  
itesting/i  
  
PS: Go visit my webpage for cast lists and new chapter reports! ((You can find the address on the first chapter of this story)) 


	5. At the end of the day, they don't mean w...

Sorry I took so long. To make up for it: Super LONG chapter. Please review!  
  
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except Dawn and the unique change in story lines. Oh, and the ballet rats.  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
... At the end of the day, they don't mean what they say  
  
Too many thoughts. He prayed no man would know what it was like to think as many thoughts as he was. He was drowning in them. So many things didn't make sense yet seemed so completely logical.  
  
Who was this girl? To come here, to question him? At times, she reminded him of Christine. Christine if she was a broken child. What was she… to him? For some reason, something about Dawn unnerved him. When he thinks about her, she's like a whisper in his thoughts. Like the thoughts of a fading dream… stuck somewhere between reality and fantasy. Something about her rang as untrue, not meant to be. The way she looked at him. With eyes that were full of years that she could not have possibly lived. With pain she never could have felt. She is a paradox, an oxymoron. Broken beyond belief but somehow holding herself together.  
  
Night always helped him think. He was thankful that tonight was not freezing, but that good kind of cold. The kind that made you shiver but relish it, the sudden kiss of cold on your cheeks. Turning even the palest, fairest cheek rosy. Erik was sure Christine's cheeks would be flushed. She'd look like the angel she is. He sighed as he continued to walk.  
  
Night was his friend. Shielded him from the cruel gaze of strangers, carrying him to someplace warm. It protected him, the dark, and Erik filled the night with his beautiful music, a tribute. And a cold winter's night? That was bliss. Dark, cold, fresh in his mouth like the sweetest fruit. Searing his throat but soothing it all at once. Give and take. The crunch of the snow as it gave into his boots. Leaving the footsteps behind, only to have his cape brush them away. Warmth in the cold, light in the darkness. Only he could find such things that were rare to a mortal's knowledge. Only he. But that is why God punished him. To silence his genius, to crush his voice, to degrade him until all those secrets stayed stashed deep inside, never to be released.   
  
Dawn. What a peculiar name, Dawn. It was crisp and… blunt. Straight to the point. There was no wondering what the name could possibly mean. It was right there. The moment when the sun kissed the sky good morning, painting it with beautiful colors, lighter than the sunset. She emulates light but her eyes held him in the dark, making him remember it's cool touch even in the light. She was so… unreal…   
  
And where does she fit in? It almost feels as though she doesn't fit into this puzzle. Almost as if she wasn't meant to be here. Like this tale, if you saw life as a story, was meant to be without her. But something, someone, had decided that she was to stay and he was to find her. It made no sense. But somehow, it seemed so completely logical.  
  
-*-  
  
When Erik reentered his kingdom, he decided to prowl. He was restless, anxious. He needed to do something to release this horrid tension in his chest. He felt himself banging into the invisible glass ceiling once more, the hammer just out of reach. Teasing torture to drive a madman sane and a sane man mad. One of his eyebrows arched, or perhaps he was too forgone already to be considered sane anymore. Any man who presumes to be the Angel of Music must be off his rocker, as in he got up and flung himself across the planes of sanity. He froze. Voices. The ballet rats approached, chattering loudly. Squeak, squeak, squawk, squawk… like hens with water thrown on them! He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, which would be far too childish. He wouldn't have even stopped to listen to their mindless prattle but something made him froze.  
  
Christine…  
  
He stopped. They mentioned her name. Now he was paying attention. Watching their every move, their every expression. However, all of them were paying far too much attention to what was happening to listen to their gut that was screaming at them that someone was watching. Except for Meg. Meg Giry was always an odd child. As much as she was apart of her group, she was an outsider as well. She listened to gossip and spread some herself, but even she knew when it was too much, too cruel. Meg was never cruel, she could be mean, but not cruel. And ever since meeting the Ghost, she's always known when he was there. And she never said a word. Unless of course, it was completely obvious he was there. Then she'd send a warning for them…  
  
He's here: the Phantom of the Opera!  
  
No one noticed Meg stiffen. She looked about, her dark chocolate eyes darting about. Her hand came up to brush her collarbone. She stopped, almost feeling him out. Using the invisible sixth sense to touch upon the emotion that came from him. She relaxed when she sensed no hatred, no rage. Sometimes when she became sensitive to the emotions in the air, his rage would coil in her stomach like a snake, eating her inside out until she wanted to scream and cry tears of blood. But she only felt curiosity and anxiousness. She didn't understand until she heard too.  
  
Christine…  
  
Meg jumped into the conversation at once. "What's this you say about Christine?"  
  
Nicole laughed, tossing her glorious red hair over her shoulder. "Silly Meg, haven't you heard? She's coming back!"  
  
If this was a cartoon, both Meg and Erik's jaw would drop to the ground and their eyes would bug out.   
  
"What?" Meg gasped.  
  
Helen giggled, "She really hasn't heard! Meg, what is the matter with you, Meg dear? You haven't been on your game lately." She sighed, disappointed. She was the picture in the dictionary next to 'dumb blonde'. "Christine is coming to the mask!"  
  
"Really?" Meg questioned, hardly daring to believe.  
  
"Really!" Nicole said. "And with that drop dead gorgeous Vicomte too!"  
  
Meg's smile fell. Helen automatically misread her look. "Oh poor Meggie, you had your eyes on him too? Oh well, there are plenty more fish in the sea." She paused. "But I still don't see why Miss Goody Two Shoes has to get the best of 'em."  
  
Meg glared. "Helen, you shouldn't say such things! Especially when she isn't here to defend herself!"  
  
"Ha!" Helen exclaimed. "Christine? Defend herself? The whole idea is perposturous. She'd probably wither into some corner…" Helen started doing a horrible impression of Christine. "Please, that isn't nice- leave me alone! I want my daddy! Waaaa!"  
  
All of the girls fell into giggles. Except Meg and surprisingly, Nicole.   
  
"It's no surprise why you're not an actress," Meg spat.   
  
She knew she was in trouble right away. For two different reasons. One was the fact that she could feel the Ghost's anger clamping down on her. It's clammy hands wrapped about her, possessing her. Making her move like a puppet and yet being its willing participant. The other reason was the obviously pissed off Helen and the silent ballet rats.  
  
"What did you say?" Helen sneered as she stepped closer.  
  
"I said, it's no surprise that you are not an actress," Meg paused. "So you're deaf as well as dumb now?"  
  
Helen's jaw clenched and her eyes glared at Meg. "How dare you speak to me that way? You know its true. How girls like me really deserve a guy like that, but don't get them because girls like Christine flaunt their virginity in the guys faces?"  
  
Meg rolled her eyes before matching Helen's glare and becoming even more terrifying. "You wouldn't have to worry about that if you weren't such a whore in the first place." Her voice was low, but the intensity was loud.  
  
Helen was speechless before her hand collided with Meg's face. She smacking sound echoed through the halls of the Opera House. Meg's startled cry followed it.  
  
"That's it Meg, cry out to your mommy. How do you think you moved up in the opera house? Because you're talented? Ha, that's a laugh. It's because your mother probably fucked the managers until they agreed. She's a slut, just like you."  
  
Silence.  
  
-*-  
  
Erik had remained silent through out this ordeal, using Meg as his voice. Prodding her with his anger, but not putting words in her mouth. His rage was all around him, filling his eyes. They dared to slander Christine's name!   
  
Christine, the pure among them. The one who refused to give up her chastity just for bragging rights. The one who refused to give up her honor for gossip. The one who felt like a real person. Innocent and naïve she may be, but no one should dare belittle her in his presence.  
  
Before he did anything, little Meg jumped to her friend's defense. He smiled, somehow proud of her. She could run with the sheep, but she knew when to have a backbone. She was a lot stronger than she appeared, Miss Giry, a diamond in the rough.   
  
But then she hit her.  
  
Helen. Helen was the blackest one of them all. Self centered and cruel to the bone. She had created up a new scientific theory that the universe was not heliocentric, it revolved around her instead. She was vain and mean. Her beauty hid the snake hidden within. He pitied the man that took her hand in marriage and could only hope that the 'lucky fellow' was what she deserved.   
  
At Meg's silence, he knew she was grasping. But he knew if she said something, it would come out weak. No one had ever hit little Meg before.  
  
"INSOLENT GIRL!" A voice said, ringing in Helen's ears.  
  
She jumped and screamed. "What the devil-?"  
  
"How DARE you speak of anyone that way. You're a little fool. A spoiled child who steps on whoever she can to get on the top. But the point is that you don't deserve the top. You AREN'T good enough. You are nothing. You're best isn't even close to being good enough."  
  
Helen glared. "How dare you say something like that to me? Where are you?" She spun, seeing the puzzled looks from the corps. "Didn't you hear it? The voice?"  
  
Whispers automatically started. 'She's hearing voices?' 'Helen's gone mad!' 'Off to the sanitarium for you!'  
  
"I'm NOT mad!" Helen growled, looking very much like a pit bull.  
  
"Yes you are, Helen dear. You are quite mad. You are nothing! Carlotta is better than you and that isn't saying much. You are crazy, insane. Their everywhere, you know. The people who hate you, who KNOW what you are. Insane. Yes, that's it quite mad!" The voice hissed in her ear.  
  
Helen looked around, almost feeling those eyes on her. "No, I-I'm not mad! I'm NOT insane, I swear it!" She looked at no one and said, "Stop looking at me! STOP IT!" She screamed, before running down the hall.  
  
The entire corps followed her, eager to see what events would occur due this new development.  
  
"Are you hurt?" asked the Ghost, owner of the voice.  
  
"I'll be all right," Meg said, smiling. "Thank you."  
  
"You are most welcome, little Giry. Now off to your mother, I'm sure she is worried."  
  
Meg nodded and whispered a final earnest thank you to the Ghost she has never seen.   
  
-*-  
  
When he arrived home, he found Dawn sitting patiently on the couch. She had her eyes closed, but she was not asleep. Simply floating on oblivion, teasing it. Her eyes flew open when he drew near.  
  
"Does it help?" she asked.  
  
He looked at his damp clothing and thought back on the evening before he shrugged. "Doesn't hurt."  
  
"Better now then?" she said, rising timidly.  
  
He nodded stiffly as he removed his cloak and hat.  
  
"Why won't you let me see you?"  
  
Her voice cut the comfortable silence that had been beginning to settle. Now it ran from them, yipping like a tiny dog and licking at it's wounds. Erik's body froze. Her words had the effect on him that the winter's cold has been trying to curse him with all night.  
  
"How can you ask me such things? Do I ask about your blindness?"  
  
She paused. "I understand that I'm being rude. But… I want you to know that you can trust me… that I don't fear you."  
  
"After looking at my face, Mademoiselle, I fear your opinion may change."  
  
He started to head toward his bedroom when her voice stopped him again.  
  
"You're deformed, aren't you?"  
  
Her voice was crisp and had the metallic sting to it, like the taste of blood. Her eyes bore into his back, looking straight through him and into his soul. His very mind.  
  
"How dare you ask me such a thing?" He growled, turning on her. If she were anyone else, she would have fled from the murderous gleam in his eye. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't.  
  
"Erik, I've lived on the streets for a great deal of my life. Do you truly believe that there is no one out there who shares the same fate?"  
  
'From time to time, certain bone structures are repeated without a blood tie. No human face is entirely unique, my dear. I daresay somewhere in the world there may be another poor devil who looks like me.'  
  
He froze. He was torn in-between shock and disdain. She all ready knew. Wouldn't that frighten her? His face frightened himself and it's his face.  
  
He wanted to reply, he really did, but when he could finally formed words a sound made them both jump. The alarms.  
  
"What was that?" Dawn said nervously.  
  
"Nothing for you to worry about, stay here."  
  
He left after swiftly placing his hat and cloak on.   
  
If he had stayed a moment longer he would have heard Dawn mumble, "Absolutely nothing is wrong but get down on your knees and pray to God for mercy." She rolled her eyes. "Men."  
  
-*-  
  
Nadir had traveled into Erik's lair before. He practically knew the way by heart. Which gives no explanation about how Nadir tripped over one of the alarms and fell to the ground, swearing in Persian all the way.  
  
He continued to swear at that alarm, cursing it for everything it's ever done or stood for. That poor inanimate object, it isn't fair how people treat them. How many times a day do people blame poor defenseless lifeless objects for their own clumsiness? People should be more considerate.  
  
Erik was upset at first, wondering who would dare to stalk below when he heard the string of profanities. And he was calm. After all, who cursed in Persian?  
  
"Having a little trouble?" Erik laughed.   
  
Nadir had the decency to blush at his foolishness. "Yes. Why thank you for offering to help me."  
  
Erik smirked. "I don't believe I did. Nadir you must be going senile in your old age."  
  
"Ugh, don't tell me I look old!" Nadir mock-gasped.   
  
The two gentlemen laughed and Erik helped his friend up. "All joking aside, there is something I must tell you."  
  
Erik became very serious. "Go on."  
  
"Why don't we go inside and talk about it? It's freezing out here!" Nadir headed toward the house.  
  
Immediately Erik stopped. Dawn was in the house. If Nadir found out about Dawn, he would never hear the end of it. EVER. Nadir may be friendly, but when it came down to Erik + a young girl it never ended well.  
  
"I'm sure you could tell me out here, Nadir, if it's that important," Erik said.  
  
Nadir started toward the house, "Erik, I am not you. I cannot survive in this freezing cold tomb."  
  
"Ah, so that's what you think of this place, Nadir." Erik glared. "Well, by all means get out."  
  
Nadir sighed. "Erik, please don't make this any harder for me or for yourself. Let's just go inside."  
  
Erik stood in front of the door. "No."  
  
Nadir's eyes widened and took on a suspicious glow. "She's in there, isn't she?"  
  
Erik raised an eyebrow. "Of whom do you speak of?"  
  
Nadir now glared. "Don't play the fool with me, Erik. If she's in there against her will-."  
  
"She was never in there against her will, Nadir! She always wanted to come, so don't you dare point your accusing finger at me," Erik snarled through clenched teeth.  
  
"I wouldn't if you didn't give me a reason to!" Nadir snarled back.  
  
Erik's gaze grew darker and Nadir suddenly remembered just whom he was speaking to. Nadir tried to comfort himself by saying that Erik would never hurt him, but he was never sure of that.  
  
"Poor Nadir, still clinging to your useless morals. You should know this by now, Daroga, that the world isn't in black and white. Justice doesn't always prevail and the good guys aren't always valiant."  
  
Nadir sighed. "Just tell me if she's in there, Erik."  
  
Erik moved out of the way. "You may enter, but you will not find who you seek."  
  
Nadir entered and looked around. He opened the doors to the music room and Christine's room. There was no one. He stood for a minute and listened. Not a whisper of a breath, not a swish of the silk dresses Erik clothed her in. Just pure silence. Nadir sighed in relief.  
  
Erik waited for a commotion. He heard Nadir snoop about and look for his protégé, but could not find her. Erik hoped that Nadir wouldn't find Dawn. She would be harder to explain- or at least more confusing. Erik paused and listened. There was nothing. Not a startled female scream. Not a horrified male gasp. Just silence. Erik sighed in relief. Dawn must have hid herself somewhere.   
  
Erik concluded that Dawn must have an extraordinary talent for hiding, for when he entered his home, there was not a trace of Dawn anywhere.  
  
-*-  
  
Please review for me! 


	6. They don't say what they mean

IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE- PLEASE READ!   
  
Thank you very much for all your reviews. I would like to address the "Mary Sue" issue. As I read through the story I do realize that I have made Dawn a bit too close to Erik. Some of it is merely coincidence... it is meant to be something of suspicion. Other things, well, I can understand. Right now I am changing some of the future chapters so Dawn isn't so... ERIK. I hope I haven't disappointed any of my readers and you will continue to read and enjoy this fiction. If not, I'm terribly sorry. Thank you. -CS  
  
Dedication: To MAD who is leaving me over the summer. I LOVE YOU!  
  
Disclaimer: NOT MINE (Except Dawn)  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...they don't say what they mean  
  
Nadir looked up when Erik entered the room. He suddenly felt very guilty. With all this Christine business, Erik had him constantly at his toes. And unfortunately, it led Nadir to false assumptions. Assuming is very dangerous, it could get you killed. He hadn't meant to be cruel to his friend but… it was a very tense time. Why couldn't Erik just be normal? Nadir smiled. He was sure Erik wondered that question himself. If Erik were normal… well… things would be very, very different.  
  
"I'm sorry, Erik. I shouldn't have snapped at you," Nadir apologized.  
  
Erik shook his head. "Quite all right, Nadir. I'm sure you have a lot to be suspicious of."  
  
Nadir sat in one of Erik's chairs. He watched Erik as he too sat. Sometimes it amazed Nadir how much power Erik held. He was dark and sinister, truly a villain to behold. And yet, with one glance Erik could disarm you or break you, hurt you or hold you. He was just a scared child beneath it all, starving for love and affection.   
  
"Speaking of Mlle. Daae, how is she?" Erik asked.  
  
Nadir sighed. "Actually, that is what I came to speak to you about."  
  
Erik slid forward in his chair and locked eyes with Nadir. His own filled with concern. "Is something wrong? Did she get hurt?" he suddenly glared. "If that boy hurt her I swear-!"  
  
"Erik," Nadir interrupted. "It is nothing of the sort. Mlle. Daae is fine."  
  
Erik nodded and relaxed. His heart had just leaped to his throat at the thought of his Christine in pain. Just the idea of her crying… Erik grit his teeth. No, nothing was wrong and he was not going to drive himself mad at the thought of it.  
  
Nadir paused and closed his eyes. He really hoped Erik wasn't going to kill him for this. He was the messenger- not the cause. But Erik had to find out and he would rather it came from him than from the lips of a chorus member.  
  
"Erik, I must ask you to remain calm for this because… it may shock you."  
  
Erik didn't like the way Nadir was shifting in the chair. It was making him nervous.  
  
"I cannot promise you anything."  
  
Nadir nodded and sighed for the umpteenth time as he handed Erik the paper.  
  
The headline reads as follows:  
  
THE VICOMTE RAOUL DE CHAGNY IS ENGAGED TO THE OPERA'S NEW STAR, MLLE. CHRISTINE DAAE  
  
Erik saw red. No, it couldn't possibly be! He had to admit that he had seen it coming but never thought that Christine could have possibly… betray him like this. His soul was wounded and he felt like killing. How could she? How could she?!?! He couldn't believe it… not for a minute. Christine was marrying that pup. And she was going to let him touch her… love her…  
  
He screamed and threw a priceless vase across the room, finding little solace in it's broken shards. He felt rage built in him just from watching the smashing vase. He had to break more…  
  
He lifted tables and threw them. Expensive, priceless merchandise ruined with the tinged, dark rage of the Phantom.  
  
"Get out," he growled to Nadir, eyes flashing.  
  
Nadir felt fear creep up his spine. Even in Erik's glance he could see the pure murder. Nadir opened his mouth to say something.  
  
"GET OUT!" Erik yelled.  
  
Nadir nodded and fled. It was not the time. Right now, Erik would kill anyone, anything that got in his way. He pitied the poor soul that did.  
  
Erik looked at the destruction and seethed. Rational thought entered his mind as he remembered Dawn. Sparing her from seeing the rest of his rage, Erik entered his room and slammed the door with a BAM.   
  
The noise echoed around the tunnels and reached Nadir's ears. Nadir groaned and shook his head. He hated to be the barer of bad news, but the job always seemed to be his. He looked at the ground and cursed Mlle. Daae for hurting Erik this way. Hadn't he suffered enough?  
  
Nadir froze. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see a female standing just a few meters away. He couldn't make out who it was at this distance, but he was sure it must have been Mlle. Daae for who else could it have been? Turning to reprimand the girl, he was left with his mouth ajar. There was no one there, not a soul.   
  
Nadir shook his head, his imagination was playing with him. It really had been a horrible, no good, very bad day.  
  
-*-  
  
5 reviews= Next chappy  
  
Thank you very much  
  
-CS 


	7. They don't ever complain

A/N: This is addressed to Deirdre of the Sorrows. I'm sorry if my whole 5 reviews per chapter gig annoys you. I, myself, dislike it but I find that a lot more people seem to review when you say this. Most people don't bother and it's kind of mean. As much as I enjoy writing for the sake of writing, I like the feedback- it encourages me. Please forgive me and continue to read the story.  
  
Disclaimer: *looks at Erik* Do I have to? *Erik glares* Oh come ON, please?!?! *No change* Please? *sighs* Fine- I don't own anything... only Dawn...  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...they don't ever complain  
  
Erik brooded. He sat in his torn apart room and brooded. What a sight he made. Him in all black with a room of black and red behind him. The only thing that was not the color of death was the stark white porcelain mask upon Erik's face. Any painter would have given a large sum just to be there and paint. Paint the pain. Paint the hurt, the suffering, the rage, and destruction.   
  
He was still in disbelief. How could she? He really was damned, wasn't he? They sent him that angel just to torment him. Just so they could laugh in his face as he fell so deeply in love with her. Just so they could torture him by ripping her away to give her to someone that did not deserve her, to someone unworthy of her, to someone who did not really love her. He was sure that the Vicomte did not love Christine as he did… Why did this have to happen?  
  
His eyes closed with unbelievable pain as he recalled the night on the roof of the opera only months ago.  
  
'Raoul, I've been there, to his world of unending night…'  
  
'All I want is freedom, a world with no more night…'  
  
He cried out as pain overtook him. How could he even think that Christine could love him? He was a hideous wreck! And she… she was a descendent from the heaven he both craved and damned. She despised him. And she hurt him so deeply. At times, he had wished he'd never known love. Because then it would be so much easier. He survived decades without the touch of love…  
  
'Yet, in his eyes all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore…'  
  
She saw it too. He remembered her face when she spoke those lines. Her expression changed from blind panic to… fondness. She cared for him somehow… she must! But she only saw him as Erik her teacher, Erik the liar, Erik the Phantom. Why couldn't she see how Dawn saw him… as him. Not as his face. He was not his face. He was not the monster, they are!   
  
All he wanted… all he ever wanted was love. And he'd been denied that his entire life because of his face. It wasn't his fault that he looked like Death! They turned from him, turned against him because of his face. And then when he reacted to his response to their cruelty, they dared to call him the monster. His life had all been torment. He hardly ever found kindness.  
  
And now this had to happen…  
  
Oh, Christine…  
  
Why? He cursed the day he had heard her beautiful voice. He cursed the day he came to this wretched place. But most of all, he cursed the day he was born. He cursed himself.  
  
-*-  
  
He must have fallen asleep because he felt himself drifting to consciousness. A sound had awoken him. His eyes flew open as he looked toward the sound. Dawn was stepping over the chaos he had created. Her body carefully brushed about the mess, making sure she didn't trip over anything. She placed the tray she was carrying on one of the remaining tables she had discovered with her hands.  
  
She glanced in his general direction before saying, "Eat."  
  
Erik's eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to protest but she beat him to it.  
  
"Erik, you will eat this and I will sit here until you finish."   
  
Carefully, she sat on the piano bench.  
  
"How dare you order me about, child?" he snapped at her.  
  
She sighed. "Erik, you were crying. You haven't slept for days, nor eaten anything. You will eat or you will wither away. You could die!"  
  
Erik wished she had her eyesight now just so she could see his murderous glance. He would think that she would feel it but she sat there, not shifting about as Nadir had done.  
  
"What if I want to die, little girl?"  
  
Dawn grit her teeth, "You will find that I am quite stubborn." She paused before continuing. "You want to die? Fine, but remember, I'm the one who's going to have to dig your grave and drag your body about. Won't be pleasant, or easy… because I wont just leave you here to rot."  
  
Erik's eyebrow raised. "Must you be so persistent?"  
  
Her head tilted. "Must you be so depressing?"  
  
Erik glared once more. "You should learn to hold your tongue!"  
  
She glared back at him. "And you should learn to control your temper!" She paused. "Let me guess. You were in love. She betrayed you. Am I right?"  
  
He said nothing.  
  
"Well, I hate to break this to you but your heart isn't the first one to be broken. Yours isn't the first to writhe in agony. It can happen to anyone and usually does. This is what happened, isn't it?"  
  
He still said nothing.  
  
"Sometimes Erik, silence is more telling than words." Her expression softened. "Please eat, Erik."  
  
Time passed with silence. Seconds, minutes, hours. It must have been two hours before Erik got up and sat before the table and ate the cold soup and soft bread. When he finished, he felt her approach. She gathered the dishes and started to leave. Before she did, she placed a comforting hand on his arm and squeezed it. He was broken out of his shock by the sound of the door clicking shut.  
  
-*-  
  
Please review because reading and then NOT reviewing... awfully rude. So, I wont demand an amount of reviews for my next chapter- but I will ask that you review for me.  
  
ERIK: Just review so she will shut up...  
  
CS: *glares* 


	8. Sympathy, tenderness

Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff, I'd be too busy making a Phantom movie with Michael Crawford in it. But I don't, so I'm not. *sulks about, hating ALW*  
  
A/N: Thank you to everyone that reviewed. Your comments fuel my brain.  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...Sympathy, Tenderness  
  
Panic. Not an emotion that was new to Erik, but one that came at such a rarity that it startled him. Dawn was missing. He had looked everywhere but he could not find her. He called out to her. He ran about like a chicken with its head cut off. He ran to the docks only to find the boat still ashore. So, she must be here somewhere.  
  
Fear rose into his throat and choked him. What if she went exploring? What if she fell into one of his traps? Into the torture chamber. His heart lurched in his chest and the thought of her slow, painful death at his hands. He would never forgive himself if he killed her. He ran inside and went to the window that revealed the torture chamber. Switching the light on, he saw that there wasn't a soul inside there. He sighed in relief.  
  
There was sound coming from his library. He went to the chamber door and flung it open. And there she was. She looked like a cat, all curled up in one of his more comfortable chairs lost in thought. He could have sworn he had checked the library earlier and had found her absent from there as well.  
  
"Dawn, where were you?" he yelled.  
  
Dawn jumped and looked at him. "I-I was right here…"  
  
"That is quite impossible, Dawn. I searched for you all morning and found you completely vacant from every room in this house."  
  
Something flickered in her eyes but was quickly masked before he could see it. "Erik, I swear, I was here all morning…"  
  
Erik paused. Dawn had never been afraid of him before. He could tell she was frightened- she looked so much like Christine. He wanted her to forgive him for yelling. Erik walked right up to her before he realized what he was about to do. He was about to embrace her. He had never touched another person in that way before in his life. Except for Nadir's dying son… But never before had he touched a woman like that. He sunk to his knees and gently touched her hand. She backed away, not expecting the touch. He took it the wrong way.  
  
"Oh, so you're afraid of me now, are you?" Erik sneered.  
  
Dawn shook her head wildly, "N-no, of course not!"  
  
Erik glared. "I offer you hospitality and you spit it back in my face. I understand now that you are just like everyone else."  
  
Dawn stood, shaking. "Don't yell at me, Erik."  
  
"I can do as I wish! It is my home and if you don't like it- you can leave. I'm not keeping you here."  
  
Dawn's face crumpled. "Fine… just-," A tear fell, she looked away but didn't brush it off, "fine. It was stupid of me to- come here. I believe I've outstayed my welcome so… I'll be going now." She choked back her sob as she moved toward the door.  
  
Erik hated when people cried; he never knew what to do. And he hated when he made people cry that don't deserve to ever shed a tear. "Dawn, I-."  
  
Dawn backed away from him and cried, "Just leave me alone!"  
  
He felt frustration well in his chest, "Fine, go then, child. Run away and leave! I don't care about you or anyone else. Just LEAVE!"  
  
Dawn ran out of the house. She was scared, for the first time she was scared of him. How could things have gone so terrible wrong? Her heart ached. It was like the world had ended. Here she had been handed her chance to make things right and she had spoiled it. Spoiled it all! Her sobs hindered her running, and she fell. She stayed where she was on the ground.  
  
Damn and damn again! He hated her now! If only she had- well, it didn't matter now. All was spoiled. All was ruined. She cried out in sheer frustration, her cry resounding all about like the pained moaning of a ghost.  
  
Meanwhile, Erik was frozen. What happened? How could he have scared her? After she had done all she had? What was wrong with him? Was he unable to feel compassion? He suspected everyone. Perhaps it was justified. After all, all his life Erik had been betrayed and rejected, so why not doubt any intentions of those who did care for him?   
  
He sighed and paced. Should he run after her? After all, it was a mistake on both their parts. She had obviously run off and he had overreacted. Christine had recently reopened his wounded heart.   
  
'Christine…'  
  
Erik paused only for a moment before grabbing his cape and hat before leaving the house beyond the lake. He only hoped he wasn't too late. He stopped when he saw she was merely a yard away, collapsed. At first, fear clenched his heart. Had she hurt herself? But he could tell from her shaking shoulders, that she had merely collapsed in misery.  
  
Creeping up behind her, her crouched to her level. "Dawn?"   
  
She turned to him immediately. Her eyes opened wide, as if she were in disbelief. They both stared at each other, he with mixed emotions, she with amazement and grief. He opened his mouth to begin his apology but Dawn's next action silenced him. She hugged him. He had immediately stiffened in her embrace as she sobbed hysterically into his shoulder. She didn't seem to notice his shock, so immersed in sorrow was she.  
  
"Erik, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" was all he could make out between her sobs.  
  
After many minutes of only her wailing into his shoulder, he finally got over his daze and carefully wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was awkward, but she seemed to be comforted by it anyway. He hushed her gently, singing a wordless lullaby in her ear. Finally, she quieted.  
  
"Don't do that again. You scared me," He whispered.  
  
She pulled away, smiling at him weakly. "I'm sorry, Erik. Will you ever forgive me?"  
  
It was when he stared into her muted hazel eyes when he knew that he cared for her. Not as he cared for Christine but still. He sighed and nodded before remembering she could not see him nod.  
  
"Yes, as long as you promise never to do that again."  
  
"I promise."  
  
It was never spoken of again.  
  
-*-  
  
Later that week, Dawn approached Erik with a question that had remained unanswered.  
  
"Erik?" she spoke.  
  
"Yes?" he looked at her, his gaze inquiring.   
  
"Why wont you let me see your face?"  
  
He froze. Pandora never seemed to leave him. For there she was, within Dawn. He wondered if Dawn would scream.  
  
"Because I don't want you to," he replied.  
  
"Erik, what are you afraid of?"  
  
'Erik, I've lived on the streets for a great deal of my life. Do you truly believe that there is no one out there that shares the same fate?'  
  
'From time to time, certain bone structures are repeated without a blood tie. No human face is entirely unique, my dear. I daresay somewhere in the world there may be another poor devil who looks like me.'  
  
The dilemma had not gone away, only hidden. He sighed and brooded once more. If she had seen it before… wait… she'd seen it before…  
  
"What do you mean by 'see' my face? If I recall correctly, you are quite unable to do so."  
  
"I can see, Erik," Dawn said. "Just because I can't see with my eyes doesn't mean I can't see. I see with my hands."  
  
She lifted up her dainty hands to show him. He never noticed how small they were before.  
  
He paused and considered. Time passed. Dawn got antsy and Erik got nervous. Finally, Dawn heard Erik untying the ribbons that held his mask in place. Dawn stepped closer until her dress brushed his knees. He removed the mask and marveled at how much better he could breathe without that dreadful thing on his face.  
  
Her hands came up and drifted near his face before they pulled back. Had she changed her mind?  
  
"Erik… help me," she asked.  
  
Wordlessly, he guided her hands to the deformed side of his face. He shut his eyes as he felt her hands that were as cold as his, rest upon his face.  
  
He sat quietly as her hands drifted about his face. She felt every defect from his missing hair to his missing nose. She touched his hallow cheek and stretched lips. Finally, she pulled away. For Erik, it had felt like an eternity. For Dawn, it wasn't quite that long.   
  
He looked at her face, searching for hints of horror or fear. But there was nothing. Her face was blank. She hated him now. He knew it. He never should have let her see him.  
  
"I still think your beautiful, Erik."  
  
Her voice cut through the silence and cut into him. How could she say something like that? When it wasn't true? And yet, he couldn't detect a lie. But he knew it wasn't true.  
  
"Don't lie to me, child. I know what I am… a monster! A horrid ugly monster!" He snapped as he stood.  
  
'Raoul, I've seen him. Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted, deformed, it was hardly a face in that darkness…'  
  
She nodded, "That may be what you believe, monsieur, but I'm afraid my opinion is different. To me you still are a man. A scared, torn, haunted man who simply needs love." She paused. "As do we all…"  
  
"What would you know of it? You know nothing! You are too young to know what it is like to live years of wandering, knowing that you can't ever have the person you love."  
  
He said too much.  
  
But she shook her head. "If only you knew, Erik." Her eyes moved to his. "Shall I prove it, Erik? Shall I prove to you that I do not see you as some fairy tale monster?"  
  
She didn't give him time to respond. She wrapped her arms around him. She hugged him again. Her arms wrapped about him and her head rested against his chest. He was stunned. No woman had ever touched him out of her own will. The first time had been out of grief. She had not seen his face in her darkness and only sought someone she had seen as a friend. And here was this little slip of a girl, that no one ever looked at twice, doing something no one else could. He was stiff in her embrace and could not remember how to respond to such a gesture, but she didn't seem to mind. How could she even think about touching him after she had seen his face?  
  
Far too soon she released him and looked up at his face.  
  
"I'll be in the library if you need me."  
  
With the click of the door, he collapsed into his chair. Utterly and completely lost.  
  
And for some reason, the most random thought occurred to him. Her face… her name… was familiar somehow. He shook his head and continued to sulk about the most recent events.  
  
-*-  
  
Once again, I will not ask for a certain number of reviews but I would appreciate it if you did because if you read and don't review, that is just wrong. Feedback helps every writer. Because if you don't or do like something, I can fix it so that their is less or more of that specific thing. I love to get comments or critism. So don't hesitate to review.  
  
CHRISTINE: Am I ever going to be in this thing?  
  
CS: Patience, child.  
  
CHRISTINE: I'm older than you.  
  
CS: *pause* So?   
  
CHRISTINE: Great comeback!  
  
CS: Shut up!  
  
CHRISTINE: Oooh, even better!  
  
CS: *growl* You WILL be quiet or I'll make you fall in love with Carlotta!  
  
CHRISTINE: *silence*  
  
CS: That's better. Anyway, please review before this becomes longer than the actual story.  
  
CHRISTINE: *muttering about Claire* 


	9. Warm as the summer

Disclaimer: So not mine. 'Cept Dawnie of course.  
  
A/N: I love you reviewers- please KEEP reviewing!  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...Warm as the summer  
  
Erik hated guilt. If guilt were a physical being, Erik would have opened up a large can of whoop ass on it. He hated guilt. It was a real pain.  
  
When he found Dawn the next morning, she was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of steaming tea in her hands. She let the steam hit her face and warm her hands. He approached her without a sound and stood beside her.  
  
"How can you still look at me when you know what I look like?" Erik asked.  
  
She didn't jump, she just smiled. "Beauty isn't skin deep, Erik. It is what is within that is the attraction."  
  
He paused. "So you don't believe me to be a freak then?"  
  
She laughed. At first, he thought she was laughing at him but her comment dispersed that.  
  
"I suppose we can be freaks together then."  
  
'Yes, thank you for pointing out that I'm a freak!'  
  
He smiled at her. How could one girl do this? How could this girl have been treated so cruel? Her heart was a rare one, golden and true. It made no sense to him and yet, he remembered that God had an ironic sense of humor.  
  
After all, only a blind girl saw what no one else could see. The man behind the monster.  
  
Something wet was on his face, a tear. He was crying. Never before had he felt… accepted.  
  
"Thank you, Dawn, for your faith and kindness. It will not be forgotten."  
  
A shadow of a smile fell over her face and she touched his arm. Oddly, her hands were still like ice when she had been nursing the hot tea.  
  
"No, it is I who should be thanking you. You were the first person who saved me, Erik," she paused and gently placed a hand on his unmasked cheek. "I won't forget that." Her voice was fond. He could see in her eyes that she cared for him as well.  
  
Love was growing between them. A timid, testing love. Now, don't get antsy yet. There are as many different kinds of love as there are stars in the sky. They loved like brother and sister, father and daughter, teacher and pupil, friend to friend. As much as Erik wished Christine would smile at him the way Dawn did, he still enjoyed Dawn's company. Things were becoming comfortable in the home beneath the opera. And they both soaked up the quiet that wasn't made to last.  
  
After all, Erik had not forgotten about the approaching masquerade. The plans were formulating even as you read. Things were becoming clearer and his plans more distinct. He knew now, just what he was to do.  
  
-*-  
  
Erik could not sleep. Worry had crept about him and slipped beneath his skin. For some reason, Erik was nervous about the upcoming mask. Just picturing looking at her angelic face gave him chills. Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she look at him cruelly and clutch at her precious Vicomte? It made him toss and turn.  
  
Truly, it was not a good time to be Erik. He hated that he felt so lost when it came to love. He was very inexperienced. Sometimes it made him want to laugh, a man his age who has seen and done things that would make other people cringe and look away was a virgin in the ways of love. Love was a cruel master. It knew how to make you happy and then snatch it away just as quickly. Giving a starving man just a taste of the food that he can never have.   
  
And he couldn't deny that at times he felt as though he would boil over. When they sang together, he wanted her. When he and Christine sang together, it was like sweet misery. He just wanted to stand and hold her, kiss her, touch her, anything! There were times when she'd slip and he'd see her startled eyes met his mismatched eyes. He wondered if she ever saw his deep hunger for her. But maybe she was too innocent for that as well.  
  
Innocence is as much as a sin as a virtue. Innocence is good for children and women, masking them from the horrors of the world. However, it made them ignorant at times. And sometimes, too much innocence is just sickening. If one cannot see what is in front of their face, one should not see at all. And at times, Christine simply was too innocent.   
  
Yes, it can be said the Christine Daae was far too innocent for her own good. She used it as her shield, hid behind it. She enjoyed being the damsel and having others save her. She needed to open her eyes and really see. The Vicomte was sleeping around because she refused to give herself to him before the wedding night. But she didn't know. Not when others so obviously whispered behind her back. When the maid's lipstick appeared on Raoul's shirt. She didn't let herself see. She was too afraid of the world beyond her innocence. And Erik longed to show it to her.  
  
All good things to those who wait…  
  
Erik rolled his eyes before getting out of his coffin and replacing the mask. Stretching, he tried to figure out what he could do with his spare time. A nice read sounded like a good idea. It would calm him down and perhaps will him to sleep. He pulled on his dressing gown and crept silently into the library, making sure not to make a sound. He pulled the door shut and was glad that the well oiled hinges failed to squeak. However, as he turned he discovered he had no need to be so quiet. For Dawn was up and about, running her hands over his books.  
  
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.  
  
"No," he replied.  
  
She turned to him and offered a comforting smile. He noticed that she didn't look tired at all. He knew that he looked a little worse for the wear.  
  
"Bad dreams?" she guessed.  
  
"Partially," he replied.  
  
The corners of her mouth turned up, "Not the talking type, I see. Could have fooled me."  
  
Erik smiled at her comment and changed the subject. He looked about the library. He hadn't been taking care of his house and he was disgusted to find quite a bit of dust about.  
  
"Forgive the mess," he said. "I'm afraid it's all a bit dusty."  
  
She nodded.  
  
He wondered what she was doing here. A blind person in a library really didn't make sense. He had heard of Braille but had no books that contained any of it. He wondered what she could really do in a library.  
  
"Erik?" Dawn was blushing.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
She held out a small red book. "Could you," she said hesitantly, "could you read to me?"  
  
Erik paused. It reminded him of Christine asking for stories while she sat by his feet. He supposed this was no different except that this was the only way Dawn could really read since Braille was expensive and hard to come by.   
  
He took the book from her and sat in his large chair. Dawn sat on a cushioned stool by his feet, closed her eyes, and listened. He looked at the book and he recalled that it was one he had bought for Christine. He had not read it himself, but he could tell from the prologue he had skimmed through that it was a romantic fantasy, Christine's favorite.   
  
His voice filled the room as he began.  
  
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl whose stepmother always made her stay home with the baby. And the baby was a spoiled child, who wanted everything to himself, and the girl was practically a slave. But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers…"  
  
-*-  
  
What's the difference between a reader who doesn't review and a malard with a cold? One's a sick duck... and I don't remember the rest but your mothers a WHORE!  
  
Sorry, this is Claire taking out her agression on those mean, lazy people who refuse to review. 


	10. Good and Evil

A/N: I'm a little upset right now. I send emails to the people that have reviewed in the past. I take the time to do that for them. And then they don't review. That is rather rude and it upsets me... if there is some rational reason that you could not do it, forgive me. But I'm starting to think that no one likes this story and I might discontinue it.  
  
Disclaimer: It belongs to someone. However, that someone is not me. But Dawn Mastin does belong to me, as does the original idea of this plot.  
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...Good and Evil  
  
Erik watched the rehearsal for the newest opera begin. Madame Giry stood tall as she held a cryptic eye over the ballet rats, some of which were on the receiving end of a severe tongue-lashing. He wasn't sure why he was there, but when he had woke this morning he had found himself restless. Meg Giry was doing well, but the others were a lost cause. He simply listened to the music.  
  
As he sat there, he recalled something odd he had come upon this morning.   
  
The previous night, Dawn had leaned on the table when she had bid him good night. But this morning, when he came into dust, there was no mark. Upon the table, the layer of dust was still intact. Perhaps she hadn't been leaning on the table? There was no further explanation for it. He shook it off.  
  
He had been sitting there for a while when a voice interrupted his quiet musings.  
  
"Heartless, aren't they?"   
  
Erik jumped. It seemed years since someone had actually startled him.  
  
"Dawn, you gave me a fright. You are as quiet as a mouse," he said. Then, he peered about. "Someone could have seen you."  
  
"Oui, monsieur. But someone also could have seen you," she retorted smoothly. Her expression became somber. "Although I doubt someone would have seen me… You were the only one who saw."  
  
Erik's brow furrowed in confusion. What in the devil was she talking about? Does she mean that he was the first person that knew she was blind? He shook his head. No, plenty have people have known according to her. Maybe, he was the first to care for her. He mentally cleared his thoughts. It was probably something metaphorical that meant to be a compliment.  
  
"I've always seen you, mon petite, and I pity those who don't," he answered.  
  
She smiled at him. Her smile was always a fitting payment for him. She stirred feelings in him that no one had ever evoked before. Only Nadir's dying son had brought about these fatherly emotions. Things like sympathy and tenderness… he had never received and therefore, never returned. But things were different with Dawn… and he found that she was a good change to his droll life.  
  
And he was surprised how comfortably they sat with each other. She sat next to him in the box, watching the ballerina's practice, not making a sound. But the whole point was that she didn't need to. The silence that had descended was comforting like a warm quilt on a chilly day. They sat that was for quite sometime until she spoke.  
  
"Are you going to the yearly Masquerade ball, Erik?" she asked. Before he could respond, she turned to him. Her eyes were large and excited, her speech quick. "It would be perfect, Erik! You could wear a mask the entire time and no one would be the wiser."  
  
"I've heard of the ball, little one. I've considered attending," he said. He remained frank. What he was to do on the night of the Masquerade was none of the child's business.  
  
She nodded, "Have you heard the rumors?"  
  
Erik paused, "How have you heard the rumors?"  
  
Dawn chuckled, "I've heard the girls before my-," she paused, unsure of how to continue, "my attempted rape." She spat out the word 'rape' like curdled milk. "And I heard them on the way here."  
  
"Oh," he replied. "Well, then, it depends on which rumor you are speaking of…"  
  
"The one of the Opera Ghost," she said.  
  
Silence.  
  
Not even the music that the rats had been dancing through invaded Erik's mind. He hadn't even considered what would happen when Dawn learned of his alternate identity: The Phantom. If Erik had been apart of our time, he would have heard the twilight zone theme echo about his head. But instead, Erik heard strange twisted melodies that sounded haunted from the first note.  
  
"Erik?" Dawn called. Erik finally registered Dawn's voice and from her face, it was obvious that she had called more than once.  
  
"Oh, that's right… the Opera Ghost," he said. Hesitation seized him, but all he could see was Dawn's large hazel eyes. "The Opera Ghost is… me."  
  
"Oh," Dawn paused. "Oh…"  
  
"Yes, I have taken the identity of the Phantom of the Opera or The Opera Ghost for many years. I built this building and upon doing so, haunt it because I could never live in the world above for obvious reasons."  
  
She nodded. "But what about the other part of the rumor?"  
  
He looked puzzled, "What other part?"  
  
"About, oh what was her name, ah yes, Mlle. Christine Daae."  
  
The silence reclaimed it's territory with a vengeance, growing thick and strong. So thick that Erik practically choked on it. So strong that Dawn knew she had made a misstep somehow. A dull ringing started in Erik's ear, seeming to get louder as he tried to think of a way to avoid the question. He finally decided he would take the same approach as he had with the Masquerade question.  
  
"She was my student," Erik said, his tone clipped.  
  
Dawn remembered the silence. She heard a low mournful sigh escape him at Mlle. Christine's name. Dawn paused as she tried to put two and two together. Erik didn't notice her expression since he was too busy trying to avoid her gaze. Dawn went over every conversation she ever had with him. And suddenly, the answer materialized.   
  
"You're in love with her!" she exclaimed, surprised.  
  
Erik's eyes shot up to hers. Once again, he damned her unseeing eyes for being unable to look upon his furious expression. And once more, he rode that anger train right into the station.  
  
"How would you know of love, child, when you have never felt it nor received it?" he hissed.  
  
Dawn's expression crumpled. Her mouth opened to reply but no sound emerged. Her mouth slammed shut and her eyes began to well with tears. Erik felt remorse start to build in the back of his mind as his words started to register. A single tear escaped before she quickly exited the box.   
  
He was quiet at first until his words finally grabbed hold of his common sense. How could he have said such a thing? Who was he to talk of such things, to give her cruelty when all she provided was kindness?  
  
He left the box but the long hallway was empty. He turned back to his box and entered the dark passageways, in search of Dawn again.  
  
-*-  
  
On his way patrolling about the Underground passages for the third time he bumped into Nadir.  
  
"Daroga," Erik greeted, coolly.  
  
"Erik," Nadir said, bowing. He paused for a second before jumping into the fray. "I don't want you to go to the Mask."  
  
Erik chuckled. "If you came all this way just to tell me that Nadir, you could have saved yourself the trouble."  
  
"You plan on going, don't you, Erik?"  
  
Erik shrugged. "Perhaps. What are you afraid of, old friend?"  
  
Nadir glared. "You know very well what I am afraid of."  
  
"You think I'm going to wring the little fops throat, don't you?" Erik question.  
  
"Well… yes," he replied.  
  
Erik laughed. "That is rather hysterical, Nadir. I was only planning to maim him."  
  
Alarm clouded Nadir's face. "What?"   
  
"I'm teasing," Erik said. "I'm going to kill him much slower than you think."  
  
Nadir's expression changed to pure horror. Erik laughed at him, clutching his sides.  
  
"What has happened to your sense of humor?" Erik chuckled.  
  
"My humor?" Nadir questioned. "I never know with you, Erik."  
  
Erik sobered at Nadir's expression. "All right, I promise I will not hurt, kill, or maim the fop tonight."  
  
Nadir still looked doubtful. Erik simply rolled his eyes and trudged off to prepare for the Mask. Perhaps Dawn had left and gone home. He felt relieved in some way, that he needn't worry so much about her, but a sense of loss filled him as he entered his home.  
  
-*-  
  
Please Review if you read this. I'd appreciate it. Thank you for your time.  
  
\/ 


	11. And their merits

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed. You all gave me a lot of support. You guys are really great and are what keeps me going. I just wanted to give a special thank you to Kirsty (who personally emailed me) and Feya for giving me some constructive critism. Thank you again to everyone!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that appear in any of the versions of "The Phantom of the Opera". The lyrics that appear in this fiction are from Jekyll and Hyde, my obvious inspiration for this fiction. They do not belong to me. Though I wish every damn day that I had thought of it first. Really. Anyway, as previously stated in all other chapters... I only own Dawn and the plot idea.   
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...and their merits  
  
Erik took one final glance at himself. His costume was magnificent. Blood red dressings and a blood red cape that read: 'I am the Red Death stalking abroad' in gold lettering. And his mask was quite frightening. The mask of a skull with Erik's mismatched eyes shinning with malice would make anyone cringe in fear. Indeed, it was obvious that the Opera Ghost had come to stir things back up. They became too certain that they were rid of him for sure.  
  
As he stepped to the double doors, he paused. It was as if he had stepped through a cold breeze. He knew that this was quite impossible considering there were no doors to his lair or otherwise nearby. He shrugged, brushing it off. But somehow, that jolt of cold air gave him confidence. With his head held high, he made his entrance.  
  
-*-  
  
Christine felt so out of place on Raoul's arm. Although she loved Raoul dearly, somehow it felt wrong to be called his wife. Currently, she did not love him, as a wife should. She saw him as her best friend and brother. Someone to take care of and tell dark secrets too. There was no one who held her heart. The only one who had came close… but she had betrayed him.   
  
She couldn't even say his name, the agony overwhelmed her. She could picture her poor angel, hurt beyond belief all because of her fear. She had been so scared. When she saw Boquet's dead body, she feared that she would be next. Only after the panic had left her had she realized Erik would never hurt her intentionally. Christine sighed. It mattered not now. Erik was gone. Her Erik was gone. And she was left alone.  
  
And now she was bound to Raoul. Christine's hand involuntarily moved to the chain around her neck, the one that held her engagement ring. Yes, it was a chain- like a shackle. She was the trophy wife. She hated it. She wanted nothing more than to rip the necklace off her and fling the cursed thing far away from her.   
  
During the Masquerade, she shared dances with Raoul. The party made her merry and she felt once again as though Raoul were her friend. Although he held her close and gave her looks that made her uncomfortable, overall she was glad he was here. When she managed to escape Raoul's clutches, she'd go to Meg. She and Meg had a fabulous time, laughing and dancing. It felt like old times. Before Raoul, before Erik, before everything…  
  
In the mist of their merry-making came a loud BANG. Silence spread faster than a forest fire as everyone turned their attention to the top of the stairs. At the sight that they beheld, some screamed and all those near to the Red Death fled. The Red Death cackled and every person knew just who this mysterious guest was, The Phantom of the Opera.  
  
Raoul seemed to appear next to her as he bound her to him with his arms. When she struggled, he tightened his grasp on her. She could have sworn she heard Raoul whisper the word 'mine'.  
  
"Why so silent good monsieurs?" Erik asked, his tone teasing. "Did you think that I had left you for good?"  
  
Pause. Silence.  
  
"Have you missed me good monsieurs? I have written you an opera!"  
  
Whispers of interest had started, an opera? Erik stepped closer and closer to the frightened managers. Meanwhile, Christine had managed to come closer to Erik, she knew it was he!  
  
"Here I bring the finished score, Don Juan Triumphant!" Erik tossed the managers the manuscript and stepped off the final step.  
  
Christine paused. His opera! His magnum opus, the one that he had always worked on but never let her see. The one he would never play for her because of its dark, seductive nature. At the memory of the music, Christine felt a chill of pleasure creep up her spine.  
  
"I advise you to comply, my instructions should be clear. Remember there are worse things than a shattered chandelier!"  
  
Without looking at her, Erik motioned for her. Christine had to obey, fighting was pointless. At first, Raoul tried to pull her back to him, but he couldn't hold her. She was like sand, she slipped right though his fingers. It was impossible to grasp onto her. She walked towards Erik as though she were in a trance. Her hooded eyes met his intense gaze.  
  
"Erik…" she whispered.  
  
He looked at her and smiled gently. And to his surprise, she smiled back.  
  
"I missed you," she said quietly.  
  
He opened his mouth to respond before his eyes narrowed. His hand came towards her and to his surprise (and delight), she did not flinch. He grasped her engagement ring and looked at her, his eyes so sad.  
  
"Oh, Erik… I'm sorry…" she uttered. Her chin trembling as she tried to hold back the tears in her eyes.  
  
He glared at the Vicomte before he ripped the necklace off of Christine.  
  
"Your chains are still mine," he hissed. "You will sing for me!"  
  
Then Erik slipped his own ring onto her wedding finger. She wouldn't notice until after he left.  
  
And with another bang and a cloud of red dust, he disappeared. Christine fell back from the spot, dazed. Erik reappeared only to scare some guests at the top of the stairs before leaving once more. Christine glanced up and seamed to snap out of her trance. Glancing down, she noticed the new engagement ring upon her finger. Easily detaching herself from Raoul, she smiled as she was swallowed into the chaos around her. Time to find her ghost… time to make things right…  
  
-*-  
  
Erik had already removed his costume and returned to his usual garb when his mind finally soaked up all that had happened. He was almost home and wondered why Nadir hadn't appeared yet to berate him.  
  
"Erik, just what do you think you were doing?" Nadir shouted.  
  
"I spoke too soon," Erik mumbled. "Ah Nadir, can I help you?"  
  
Nadir's expression twisted into a scowl. "How could you do such a thing, Erik? Scaring Mlle. Daae like that? I thought we agreed that you would leave her alone!"  
  
Erik smirked. "I assure you Daroga, I made no such deal."  
  
Nadir stopped himself from stomping his foot. "Erik!"  
  
"Yes?" Erik's grin grew.  
  
"What are you planning to do with Mlle. Daae?" Nadir asked, irritated.   
  
"I'm sorry, Nadir," Nadir opened his mouth to say something before Erik continued, "but all questions must be submitted in writing. Then, you must give them a three month incubation period before a reply can be given."  
  
Nadir growled low in his throat. "Erik, you are impossible!"  
  
Erik's smile finally left his face as he glared. "And you, Inspector, are getting on my nerves. So please, leave my property before I remove you myself."  
  
Nadir's anger left him at Erik's glare. Although Nadir and Erik were friends, Erik wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he endangered his freedom. Nadir knew that and backed off. With a frustrated sigh, Nadir bowed and stalked off.  
  
Erik laughed at his friend internally before his thoughts turned to Dawn. He was about to go brood when he heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Erik!"  
  
Erik paused and shook his head, thinking it was his imagination. But the illusion was persistent.  
  
"Erik!"  
  
Finally, Erik decided to counter his thoughts and turned to the voice. Only to find it was not an illusion. For there was Christine, his Christine, awkwardly rowing towards him on the gondola.   
  
"Christine?" he asked, not believing it to be true.  
  
Christine was having trouble rowing but finally managed to float near the dock. The last time she had tried to steer the boat, she landed up dropping the pole. Luckily, she had grasped it up quickly enough although she nearly flipped over. She clenched her teeth as she refrained the urge to smash the hopeless piece of wood to shards with the horrid pole. How did Erik do it? And make it look so easy? Although, Erik did have a lot of free time on his hands. He could probably dance ballet on a tight rope, blindfolded and make it look like it was a walk in the park. Christine muffled a laugh at the picture that presented. The things that went on in her head sometimes…  
  
With much effort, she managed to bring the stupid boat to the wharf. Now the big problem was getting out of the boat in her intricate costume. A hand came into her view, Erik's. Her eyes trailed over his covered hand, already knowing them to be devoid of heat. His wiry arms attached to one of his two broad shoulders, his chest moving only slightly with each breath he took. Her eyes moved over his strong neck and chin before reaching the beautiful side of his face. She realized for the first time that if Erik hadn't been deformed, he would be very handsome. Her eyes met his and she blushed at his knowing look. Silently, she took the first step toward forgiveness as she took his hand and allowed him to help her. His hands were cold, as usual, and she wished she could warm them somehow.  
  
Erik was surprised to find Christine's gaze traveling over his form. When he met her eyes, he suppressed all the desire he felt at knowing that she saw him. He hoped that she accepted his help. It would show that they were willing to forgive each other for all of the harm they did to the opposite. When she did, Erik allowed himself to smile.  
  
"Erik, I-," Christine stopped when she heard music. Her face twisted into a frown. "You replaced me?"   
  
Christine couldn't believe it. He replaced her. He didn't care about her after all. But what about the ring? She was so confused and upset that tears started to well in her eyes.  
  
Erik paused when he felt relief spill into him. Dawn had stayed. But Christine's comment pulled his emotions over to grief.  
  
"No, I did nothing of the sort, Christine," he paused. "I could never replace you."  
  
Christine shivered at his tone, feeling desire creep into her body. Sometimes, Erik didn't realize his effect on her. It's the way he made her feel. How his voice would only edge on seductiveness, inviting, tempting… but never overwhelming. It made her heart pause in her chest. He always made her feel so wanted. He made her feel like she belonged. Unlike Raoul, who made her feel like she belonged to him, like a china doll.  
  
"Come," he said, leading her with their clasped hands, enjoying the contact. "There is someone here I would like you to meet."  
  
As they stepped into the house, they heard the voice that accompanied the music.  
  
"A New World,  
  
This one thing I want to ask of you world.  
  
Once!  
  
Before it's time to say adieu, world!  
  
One sweet chance to prove the cynics wrong!  
  
A New Life,  
  
More and more I'm sure as I go through life.  
  
Just to play the game,  
  
And to pursue life,  
  
Just to share its pleasures and belong!  
  
That's what I've been here for all along!  
  
Each days a brand new life!"  
  
Christine and Erik entered the music room to find Dawn sitting at the piano.  
  
Christine observed the girl's profile. She was only a year or so younger than she. Her hair was short, only to her shoulders, and straight. Her skin was olive, she almost seemed to glow in the candlelight. The angles in her face only maintained her majestic image.   
  
"Another original, Dawn?" Erik asked, releasing Christine's hand.  
  
Dawn was startled before she turned toward them. "Yes, I'm sorry I-," she paused. Her brow wrinkled a second before she said. "You have someone with you?"  
  
Christine's brow mimicked Dawn's. How could she not see that she was here? She was standing right before her.  
  
"Yes," Erik replied. "Dawn, this is my pupil, Christine."  
  
Dawn stiffened immediately, before a smile covered her face. "Mlle. Daae, it is a pleasure." Dawn stood and tried to determine where Christine was. She shifted toward Christine's general direction before saying, "I'm Dawn."  
  
Christine wondered why Dawn was looking over her left shoulder. "Call me, Christine." With that, she offered her hand. She figured if Erik was willing to trust her, she should to. However, she became offended when Dawn didn't take her offer of friendship. Christine almost went off on a whole tirade in her head about how rude this newcomer was before Erik spoke.  
  
"Christine, don't be vexed. It's just-,"   
  
Dawn interrupted. "I'm blind."  
  
Christine's hand automatically flew to her mouth. And here she was thinking Dawn was this horrible person, ready to insult her when all this time she hadn't been able to see her! She couldn't see! That's terrible! Christine didn't know if she'd be able to live if she was blind. It would be near impossible to perform.   
  
"I'm sorry," Christine said, mournfully.  
  
A ghost of a smile appeared on Dawn's face. "So am I." The two females sat in an understanding silence before Christine smiled.  
  
"That was wonderful. You wrote that?" Christine said, referring to the music.  
  
Dawn blushed, "Yes, it's called 'A New Life'."  
  
The girls were about to continue when Erik finally collected his thoughts.  
  
"Dawn, where were you?" Erik remarked sternly.  
  
"I just took a walk… I had a lot on my mind," Dawn said as she turned to Erik.  
  
"Dawn, it's dangerous out there. I have… traps set up. What if you fell into one by accident?"  
  
"Erik, I'm blind not stupid. I understand and appreciate your concern but it isn't necessary."  
  
Erik wondered how this girl always knew how to infuriate him. "That's not the point, Dawn. You could get hurt!"  
  
"I know," Dawn said. "But I'll be fine, I can take care of myself."  
  
Erik scoffed, "Then maybe you deserve to die."  
  
Dawn pulled back. Somehow, Erik knew he hit a soft spot. He couldn't figure out what he'd done, but he knew that he had hurt her deeply. "No one deserves that."  
  
"I don't know about that," he snapped.  
  
Dawn's hurt look changed into that of fury. "I guess all men are bastards, even the ugly ones."  
  
Erik's jaw tightened. He bit back every other insult he wanted to throw at the girl as he stomped off into his room, slamming the door. Only when Dawn was sure Erik was gone, did she topple to the floor. Sobs escaped her as she clutched herself.  
  
Christine had watched the whole exchange with an expression of detached horror. She looked at Dawn and didn't know whether to hate her or pity her. Christine's heart still ached for both of their pain. Sighing, Christine knelt beside Dawn and took the younger girl in her embrace. She noticed that although Dawn was crying, no tears had escaped her eyes. Christine waited until Dawn calmed down before she released her.  
  
"So, how did you meet Erik?" Christine asked, changing the subject.  
  
Dawn paused before she slowly revealed her tale to Christine. She started from the mad chase in the opera house all the way to the present. When she was finished, Dawn asked the same question. Christine started from her father and the tale of the angel of music, to hear her angel for the first time, to Raoul's return, and even about her betrayal of Erik. The girl's listened to each other's tales as a sense of mutual appreciation and understanding bound them together.  
  
-*-  
  
Erik finally left his room after many hours of brooding and blind fury. When he stepped out, he was treated to the sight of Dawn and Christine asleep in each other's arms. The blunt of his anger disappeared as his gaze softened. The two girls seemed to be comfortable with each other and Erik was pleased to find them absent of jealousy. Silently, he wrapped a blanket around the two. His hand brushed Dawn's face accidentally and he was startled to find how cold it was. He got another blanket, hoping to warm her. After the task was finished, he returned to his room to get some sleep. He never saw Dawn open her eyes and look at him. She had never been sleeping.  
  
-*-  
  
Oooh, creepy. Well, I'm kind of tierd. I have been getting over this virus that I, of course, spread to my boy friend. Luckly, I didn't pass it to the rest of my cast. Our preformances are the 14 and 15 of August... so give us an extra prayer. If any of the people from the cast of "The Country Wife" ARE actually reading this (which is highly doubtful), we rock. Okay, I'm going to go pass out now.  
  
*Insert review rant here*  
  
Erik: I never thought I'd say this, but thank you, God!  
  
CS: *glare* Y'know what, Erik? If I weren't so sick right now, I would have busted a cap in your ass for that!  
  
Erik: *confused blink* "Busted a cap in my ass"? What does that mean?  
  
CS: *growls* Nevermind!  
  
Erik: *turns to the readers* Ignore her, it's that time of the month again.  
  
CS: *yells* I HEARD THAT! And if you knew what it felt like to have your uterus fall out, you wouldn't be so smart about it.  
  
Erik: Oh boo bloody hoo, can't be that bad.  
  
CS: Oh yeah? Try pushing something the size of a watermelon out of something smaller than a lemon.  
  
Erik: *grimances*  
  
CS: Yeah, that's what I thought. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to- *falls asleep standing up* 


	12. Safe in his arms, close to his heart

A/N: Please review. I know this bothers some people but it seems to be only when I whine do people review. Anyway, review. I do. So should you.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that appear in any of the versions of "The Phantom of the Opera". The lyrics that appear in this fiction are from Jekyll and Hyde, my obvious inspiration for this fiction. They do not belong to me. Though I wish every damn day that I had thought of it first. Really. Anyway, as previously stated in all other chapters... I only own Dawn and the plot idea.   
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...Safe in his eyes  
  
When Erik woke, he could still taste the anger in his mouth. But a strange thing had woken him, something he had never heard much of before, laughter. Dawn and Christine were obviously awake and enjoying themselves. He paused for a second as a horrid thought dawned upon him. Were they laughing at him? Perhaps they were making fun of his ugliness, now that they both had mutual knowledge of it. He tried to suppress the unwanted fear as he freshened up.  
  
The laughter floated out of the kitchen. With a deep breath, he opened the door. At both of their startled looks, he nearly fell into laughter. Both Christine and Dawn were covered from head to foot in flour! And both of them were flushed and disheveled. He had never seen Christine look more beautiful. She had this wild, free look on her face. But her blush deepened into that of embarrassment as she straightened and tried to make herself look more decent. But that just made Erik smile harder. Seeing Christine trying to look dignified while covered in flour was positively hysterical.  
  
But as the humor faded, the tension grew. Dawn was stiff as she stared at the ground. She had said some things she hadn't meant. And he too, had said some things he hadn't meant. And somehow, they both knew it. He looked at her and wished that she could see him. He wished that she could see both the forgiving and the regretful look in his eyes. But in her blindness, she seemed to have developed a sixth sense because she looked at him and knew. And for the briefest moment, he could swear that she had seen him. And she smiled at him. And he smiled in return.  
  
No apologies were exchanged or needed.  
  
-*-  
  
Later that night, Erik sat in his library reading Dante's Inferno when he heard the door open. He expected it to be Dawn, since she never seemed to sleep but he was surprised. It was Christine.  
  
"Christine…" he whispered. His mouth went dry. "Child, what are you doing up so late?"  
  
Christine smiled timidly, "I-I couldn't sleep… I had a lot on my mind."  
  
He paused before he cautiously offered a listening ear.  
  
"Actually," she said, "I was thinking… about you."  
  
She blushed. He paled.  
  
"What about?" he replied, trying to stay calm.  
  
She sat beside him, fidgeting slightly. He knew that she was nervous.  
  
"Well… we never really got to talk about… what happened."  
  
He froze. Oh god, what did she want to say now? What more could she say?  
  
"Christine, I-."  
  
"No," she interrupted. "For once, let me do the talking."  
  
Shock over came him. Christine never was the one who was in control. It seemed that Dawn was rubbing off on her all ready. He couldn't tell whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.   
  
"That night… was horrible… for the both of us. I betrayed you twice and both weigh heavily on my conscious. I betrayed your confidence by removing your mask. I didn't mean too but," tears formed in her beautiful eyes, "I've always been too curious for my own good. I never understood why you hid from me."  
  
She paused and swallowed, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill. "I will not lie to you, Erik. Your face… it scared me. It still scares me…"  
  
He closed his eyes in pain. He was alarmed when he felt her hand gingerly fall upon his. His eyes shot up to her, panic swelling in them. She smiled gently.  
  
"But I want you to know it doesn't matter to me. You are still an angel to me. You are a man, Erik… but you've done something for me that no one else ever did. You believed in me. I haven't felt that since before my father's death. And your belief let others see me. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am…  
  
"And you see me differently too. You don't just see my face. I know you see my beauty just like how I see your… homeliness. But… but you see beyond that. I'm not just a pretty face to you. Raoul sees me as a trophy wife, Erik."  
  
She paused again and looked away. She mumbled something so low that he couldn't even hear it.  
  
"What did you say, my dear?" he asked, touching her chin cautiously.  
  
She looked at him and said, "I don't love him."  
  
He pulled back. He didn't even need to speak his disbelief. Although he was wearing a mask, his surprise was in his eyes.  
  
"I love him as a friend… a brother, even. And I don't want to marry him. But he just wouldn't take no for an answer. Could you imagine how damaging that would be for his reputation?"  
  
She sighed before she shifted closer, boldly clutching his hand. "That night, I was so frightened. I had never seen that side of you before. And fear had driven me to betray you. That next morning, I felt terrible. I wanted to take it all back…"  
  
She stared deep into him and Erik wished he could stay in this moment forever.  
  
"What I'm trying to say is… you are not your face, Erik. You are everything to me. You are my dreams, my hope…" she choked on her words. "I want to make it right again. Please Erik, please give me a second chance."  
  
Her eyes were so sadly hopeful almost as if she thought he hadn't already forgiven her. He could forgive her for anything as long as she kept looking at him like that. For the first time, he thought that she really could grow to love him.  
  
"I will always forgive you, Christine…"  
  
A tear ran down her face. Cautiously, he wiped it away. He stiffened when she turned into his soft caress. Their eyes met and something so pure passed between them.  
  
Hope.  
  
-*-  
  
Wasn't that sweet? If you want more chapters like this, review. If not, I might just have to make Christine kill Erik, then Dawn kill Christine for killing Erik, then have Raoul kill Dawn for killing Christine. Really gory. You really don't want it to end that way, now do you? 


	13. But I don't know quite where to start

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that appear in any of the versions of "The Phantom of the Opera". The lyrics that appear in this fiction are from Jekyll and Hyde, my obvious inspiration for this fiction. They do not belong to me. Though I wish every damn day that I had thought of it first. Really. Anyway, as previously stated in all other chapters... I only own Dawn and the plot idea.   
  
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-  
  
...But I don't know quite where to start  
  
Erik looked at Dawn across the library. They all had settled in for the evening. Both he and Christine were reading. Dawn however was making designs in the ashes by the fireplace. She looked forlorn and he immediately guessed the cause. She couldn't see what she was doing… she was ruining her designs and drawing over them.   
  
He looked over at Christine and was surprised to find her watching Dawn with a sympathetic eye. She looked up and caught his gaze. It was then when they started to scheme.  
  
It was time to pay Dawn back for all the good she's done them.  
  
-*-  
  
Dawn sat with Christine in the library later that week.  
  
"Do you know where Erik is?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Oh, he left earlier to run some errands…"  
  
Dawn nodded, surprised he had left them alone.  
  
"Would you like to come into my room? I just have to check to see if this clip looks good with this outfit."  
  
Dawn froze. "No that's okay… I'll just… um… stay here."  
  
Christine gave Dawn a peculiar look before she left the room. She didn't see Dawn slump in relief.  
  
When Christine returned to the library, Dawn was gone.  
  
-*-  
  
"Dawn?" Erik called.  
  
"Yes?" Dawn turned from the piano.   
  
"Could you come in here for a moment? We're in the library."  
  
Dawn got up and stumbled toward the library. When she entered, the confusion was written all over her face. A small hand grasped her own cold one and led her to a new seat.   
  
"Christine? What's going on?"  
  
"Here… let me help you." Christine said as she sat beside Dawn and moved her hand to some objects.  
  
Dawn closed her eyes as she concentrated. She grasped a jar. She held it to her nose but she couldn't smell anything. She went to open the lid when she felt bumps on it. Braille! Carefully, she touched it. 'Purple'. Purple? Dawn's forehead wrinkled with her present confusion. She opened it up and carefully stuck her fingers inside. Her nose crinkled in concentration. It was… wet. She rubbed her fingers together and brought them to her nose. The fumes were alarming but… familiar…  
  
Paint!  
  
Her eyes shot open wide. She replaced the lid and put the jar back down. She felt along a shelf and discovered more jars. 'Red' 'Orange' 'Yellow'…   
  
"What did you- how did-?"  
  
"We wanted to give you something," Erik said.  
  
"You don't need to give me gifts. Your friendship is all I need."  
  
Christine and Erik smiled at each other. "We know. But… we thought that you might… appreciate this." Christine said.  
  
"Oh," Erik added, "You might need these."  
  
She felt a few thin objects press into her hand. The second she grasped them she knew that they were brushes.   
  
In silence, Christine and Erik watched as Dawn rediscovered the wonder of painting that she had lost so many years ago.   
  
-*-  
  
Erik and Christine gazed upon her masterpiece. Since Dawn couldn't see, she forgot about painting actual things. She focused on her feelings and tried to paint them. She listened to her blood and did what it told her too. Her mind took a vacation as the picture formed. Erik watched from his seat, not moving. Christine's mouth opened with awe as something so raw, so powerful was slowly birthed before her.  
  
When Dawn was finished, she stood back. This was when she would look at her work and analyze it for faults. But she couldn't. She closed her eyes and remembered what she had done. Piece by piece she had her painting before her, in her imagination. Dawn's legs gave out. Christine and Erik both stood quickly but when they rushed to her aid, they only found Dawn's smiling face.  
  
"It's so beautiful…"  
  
Christine and Erik exchanged a look of happiness before they congratulated Dawn on the mural.  
  
When Christine returned to the world above, her smile was dazzling.  
  
-*-  
  
Thanks for the positive response. Although, if there is something you dislike, feel free to critize me. *winces* I'm going to regret that aren't I?  
  
Jareth: *evil laugh*  
  
CS: What are you doing here? This isn't a Laby fic, it's a phantom fic!  
  
Jareth: I know. I'm going to take over the world.  
  
CS: *rolls her eyes* Yeah, okay...  
  
*Jareth scoffs, flips his hair, and walks past her in a huff. CS, however, sticks out her foot and trips him in his very expensive Armani boots and scuffs them. Jareth looks at her, looks at the scuff, and looks at the scrap on his poor widdle finger before he runs out crying*  
  
CS: *sighs* Medic!  
  
*Dr. Lecter comes on for a breif second, flashes the readers an evil smile, before following Jareth*  
  
CS: *growls* Can't you people stay in your own fandoms? Gez, it's like I'm running a three ring circus! Can this get iany/i worse?  
  
Raoul: *comes in dressed like some sort of Bozo the clown* Did someone say circus?  
  
Erik: *bursts into hysterics*  
  
CS: *slaps her head* No, Raoul...  
  
Erik: *points and laughs at her*  
  
CS: *glares at him* Put there's a monkey for you right there! *points to Erik*  
  
Raoul: Yey, MONKEYS! *pounces on Erik*  
  
Erik: No, God, please no! Anything but this! Anything but this!  
  
CS: *evil laughter* So there IS going to be blood shed after all. This story is getting so mushy. Oy. Not my style. Maybe Erik should go insane and kill Christine for stealin' his man before running off with the fop?  
  
Readers: *gasp of horror*  
  
Erik: *starts to cry*  
  
CS: *smirk* That's right. So you best be reviewin' unless you want Erik to find himself a new love interest. *glances at the men on the floor* I'm an evil bitch, aren't I? 


	14. I am you

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that appear in any of the versions of **"The Phantom of the Opera".** The lyrics that appear in this fiction are from _Jekyll and Hyde,_ my obvious inspiration for this fiction. They do not belong to me. Though I wish every damn day that I had thought of it first. Really. Anyway, as previously stated in all other chapters... I only own Dawn and the plot idea. 

****

-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-

__

…I **am** you…

Christine rushed to the stage only to be told by Madame Giry that she was wanted in the managers' office. Swallowing the dread that had formed in her throat, Christine slowly made her way to the room. She heard a loud commotion coming from inside, and paused before she entered. Upon doing so, she received a glare from Carlotta.

"Ah, 'ere's our little flower!" Carlotta exclaimed. 

The managers stepped forward, holding the script. "Mlle. Daae, you understand that you have the largest role in this opera?"

Carlotta scoffed, "Ha, Christine Daae! She cannot sing!"

Piangi added his agreement.

"Signora, please!" exclaimed Firmin who was tired of hearing Carlotta's ranting.

"Then I take it you're agreeing to this madness?!" said Raoul as he entered the office.

"She's behind all of this," Carlotta whispered to Piangi, loud enough for Christine to hear. The said party turned and looked at Carlotta.

"We don't have a choice!" claimed Andre.

Carlotta stepped forward and pointed to Christine, "She's the one behind this, Christine Daae!"

Christine was able to deal with Carlotta's weak glare, but this was too much. Her eyes formed daggers as she yelled, "How dare you!"

"I'm not a fool!" Carlotta screeched, stepping closer.

__

"You evil woman, how dare you?" Christine's anger rose.

"You think I'm blind?" Carlotta retorted.

"This isn't my part, I won't have any part in this plot," Christine stated, defending her honor.

However, at this declaration both the managers' looked at her, shock written on their faces.

"Mlle. Daae…" started Firmin.

"…But, why?" finished Andre.

"What's happening?" asked Piangi, trying to understand. His English was rather limited and at this point, he was rather confused.

"She's backing out!" Carlotta smirked. She knew Christine couldn't handle the pressure. She'd probably get stage fright, the amateur. 

"Christine, you have a duty!" shouted Firmin.

"I will not sing it!" cried Christine.

"Christine, you don't have to," Raoul comforted, coming to Christine's defense.

At that moment, the Giry's entered the room, baring another note.

"Another note?" asked Andre.

Madam Giry merely nodded before she started to read.

"_Fondest Greetings to you all,_

A few instructions just before rehearsal start. Carlotta must be taught to act, she cannot flounce around the stage in her usual manner. Piangi must loose weight, it isn't healthy for a man his age to be his size. And to my managers, they must remember their place is in the office, not on the stage.

As for Mlle. Christine Daae, she'll do her best. Her voice is better than any other in this facility, including Carlotta's. However, she shall need instruction on her role and will return to me to practice. 

Your obedient friend and angel,

O.G."

A silence descended as each individual was lost in their own thoughts.

Suddenly, Raoul gasped. "We have all been blind and yet the answer was there all along!"

Everyone's attention was on the Vicomte although his attention was on Christine. She certainly didn't like the way he was looking at her.

"We will play his game, by his rules. But _we_ hold the key. For if Christine sings he will come! And then-," Raoul began.

"- we make sure the gendarmes are there and armed!" Andre interrupted, realization filling him.

"He shall be dead and our troubles will be gone!" Firmin continued.

Christine's mouth was agape. She was sure she looked like a fish out of water. What did they think they were plotting? Not only, were they playing dangerous, they were also doing it in Erik's territory! Perhaps Erik was listening right now! 

However, before Christine could express her feelings, Madame Giry did.

"Madness!" she exclaimed. "You are all quite mad!"

"Either you are with us or you are with him!" cried Raoul.

"Go back to the ballet, Giry. You are not needed here!" yelled Firmin.

"He has killed and will kill again if he hears of this!" warned Madame Giry.

"And who would tell him?" asked Andre, suspiciously.

Carlotta, meanwhile, used this opportunity to place the blame on Christine.

Everyone was shouting at each other, saying who was to blame. The managers were yelling at Madame Giry while Raoul tried to convince her to join them. She was telling them that they were making a mistake. Carlotta was screaming at everyone about how Christine was at fault. Piangi, of course, was repeating her every word. Meg was staring at Christine as she slowly clutched at her ears as the noise reached a climax before she shouted loudly.

**__**

"If you don't stop, I'll go mad!" she cried before she collapsed in the chair.

Meg ran to Christine and clutched her arm, giving her support. Christine turned her sad and crazed eyes to her.

"Meg, I'm frightened… don't let them do this. Meg, this is madness! To put me through this façade… it's too dangerous," she cried.

Standing on shaky legs she turned to the managers and Raoul, "Don't make me do this, Monsuiers! He'll kill you for your betrayal. He'll kill me! You, you mustn't do this! It will destroy us all!" 

Christine was slowly dissolving into muddled sentences of disagreement. Raoul wrapped his arms about his bewildered fiancé. 

Carlotta, for the first time in her life, looked upon Christine with pity. She really was only a young girl. A young girl who shouldn't have to deal with all this crazy talk.

"She's mad!" she whispered to herself.

"Christine," Raoul whispered, wiping away her tears. He tilted her head so that she was looking at him. "He's nothing but a man, he's not invincible. We have to kill him or he'll destroy us."

Christine stared at him before looking away. "You have twisted this in every way," she said, referring to everyone. "What else can I say? You force my hand! You will make me betray everything I once believed in… the person who believed in me." She paused, catching her stolen breath. "He kills without a thought. I cannot even stop him. He'll kill you all if you even attempt this!" she warned. "Oh god!" she cried, dissolving into tears. They were really going to make her do this.

"Christine…" Raoul called again, pulling her to him. "It's not that I don't care but we cannot do this without you…"

Christine jerked away from him. "You make me prey and then, you claim to love me?"

Raoul reached for her, to comfort her but she stood before she fled the room. Meg gave Raoul a dirty look before she followed her distressed friend. With anger in his eyes, Raoul glared at the floor before he too chased after them. Madame Giry paused before she sighed. Obviously, Raoul would not abide by the advice she had given him after the masquerade. She shook her head. There was nothing else that she could do. Staring at the managers disapprovingly, she left the room.

-*-

Meg ran into the room just before Christine shut the door and locked it. Christine walked slowly to the vanity and sat down. She stared blankly at the mirror. What was happening to her? She reached for her brush and slowly untangled her curly blonde locks.

"Christine, what's going on?" Meg asked after watching her friend. She almost looked like a doll. Beautiful, but lifeless.

"I don't know… I don't know…" Christine whispered before she turned.

Her bright blue eyes met the Meg's green ones. 

"I'm scared," Christine admitted.

"Of… the Phantom?" Meg asked.

"No," Christine enforced. "Of Raoul." She stood at Meg's shocked look. "He… he treats me like a _possession," _she spat. "I can't go on doing everything he says, Meg. He … he wants me to hurt Erik. And I can't. Not after I hurt him so badly. Oh Meg, what am I going to do? You know Erik. You know he isn't a horrible person. You know! Oh god…"

Meg gathered her sobbing friend in her arms. "Maybe… maybe you should leave him."

"Erik?" Christine gasped, confused. She thought Meg understood!

"No, Raoul. Maybe you should break the engagement."

Christine shook her head. "No! I'm scared of what he'll do!"

Suddenly realization filled Meg's face. "He hit you!"

Christine's eyes widened. "Just once, I swear! It didn't even hurt that much… and it wasn't a big deal-!"

"Christine," Meg said, shaking her friend for good measure. "He HIT you. That is _never_ a good thing. I think you should-."

A banging on the door interrupted Meg.

"Christine! Christine! Open this door, we need to talk!"

Christine's eyes flew to Meg's. "Raoul!" she whispered, frightened. 

The doorknob rattled. It was locked. "Christine, please open the door!"

Christine grabbed her friend by the wrist and rushed to her bureau, opening it. She shoved Meg inside and hushed her before she grabbed her robe off the door and wrapped herself in it. She quietly shut the bureau's doors before she picked up her brush. Then she unlocked the door and let Raoul in.

"Why did you lock the door, Christine?" Raoul asked as he entered.

"I just… wanted sometime to myself," Christine replied before she returned to her vanity.

"Christine, I know this upsets you but the only way to get rid of that- that **MONSTER** is to-!"

"Don't call him that!" Christine hissed before she realized what she said.

Raoul's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What did you just say?"

Christine just shook her head. "Listen, Raoul. I'm tired and I have a lot on my mind. So please, leave."

Raoul glared at her, "You are harboring feelings for that thing!"

Christine grit her teeth as she suppressed the urge to strangle Raoul.

When Christine didn't deny it, Raoul became furious. "You actually care about him! Is that it? You love him? Is that why you let him touch you?! Is it?"

Christine stood up. She had to defend her own honor this time. But she wished Erik was here.

"I didn't let him touch me, Raoul. He just _did._ It's not like he hit me!"

Raoul pulled back. "Is this what this is all about? Is that why you haven't let me touch you?" As if to prove his point, he went to take Christine into his arms. As predicted, she turned from him. "Christine, I'm sorry about that. It really was an accident. I was just so mad and I just… I wish you would forgive me." 

Christine sighed, "I know, Raoul. It's just that it frightened me, you frightened me."

"I know… and I'm sorry," Raoul said as he laid his hands on her shoulders.

"A man should never hit a woman. Dawn told me that and I believe her," Christine whispered.

Raoul immediately let her go. "You told someone I hit you?" The anger was slowly starting to rise in his eyes. "And who is this… Dawn?"

Another unladylike urge came to her, the urge to swear repeatedly for her slip. "Dawn Mastin is… my friend. I met her very recently near home. We became fast friends…"

Raoul's mind automatically prickled with the sense of precaution. He knew this name. But when he tried to grasp for why, it simply disappeared from his mind. 

"I see. Is she nice?" Raoul said, not really interested.

"Yes. She's great, talented, and intelligent. Plus-."

"Great," Raoul interrupted. "Then maybe she can talk some sense into you about the whole matter. I will speak to you later. Hopefully, you might have changed your mind by then about that monster."

Christine finally lost her mind.

"Get out," she hissed.

"What was that my dear?" Raoul asked.

"Get out, right now!" Christine growled. Raoul almost jumped at her murderous glare. Her usual deep blue eyes were the color of ice.

"Christine, if this is about-."

"I said, get out!" Christine shouted. "Get out, _get out_, **_GET OUT!"_**

Raoul stepped closer until Christine picked up a vase full of flowers he had given to her and threw it at him. It narrowly missed his head. He looked at the smashed vase for a few seconds, shocked, before he turned to Christine.

"What in the world has gotten into you?" Raoul questioned, his patience running thin. Perhaps Christine **was** insane.

"Leave this instant, you pathetic little fop. I never wish to speak to you again," she snarled, her tone eerily calm.

"Christine…" he tried one last time.

She pointed at the door, "Leave and never come here again."

He walked towards her and slapped her. "Don't ever speak to me that way again!"

Her head flung to the side on impact. Grasping her cheek, she turned. He expected her eyes to be full of tears; instead, they were even colder than before. For the first time, Raoul felt a chill of fear creep up his spine.

And then she slapped him, hard. She flung open the door and pushed him out. All of this was so unexpected that the Vicomte lost his balance and fell on his bum.

"I will never speak to you again," she whispered fiercely. "The engagement is off."

She slammed the door and locked it. She slowly looked in the mirror. Who was that devil that stared back at her? Did Erik possess her body? She felt so powerful. Never before had she felt so strong, so in control. Her cheek still stung when she pulled open the doors to her bureau. Hushing the startled Meg, she opened the mirror and disappeared within, the young Giry in tow. A breeze swept in and blew out the single candle lit as the room fell to eerie darkness. The silence was broken only by the click of the mirror.

-*-

And that, my dears, is the end of this chapter. BUT I'm issuing a warning now.

If I do **not** get more of a response from my fans in the future, I _will_ discontinue. I hate making promises like this but it's the only thing that affects the readers. I, too, am a victim of laziness, but as a writer you should know what it's like to want reviews. 

So, please review.

Thank you.

Claire Starling


	15. You have your work and nothing more

A/N: Two things- 1) YEY! I learned how to use html! wOOt! 2) _Danku, Danku, Danku!_ For ze incredible response! YOU ARE ALL BEAUUUUUTIFUL!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that appear in any of the versions of **"The Phantom of the Opera".** The lyrics that appear in this fiction are from _Jekyll and Hyde,_ my obvious inspiration for this fiction. They do not belong to me. Though I wish every damn day that I had thought of it first. Really. Anyway, as previously stated in all other chapters... I only own Dawn and the plot idea. 

-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-

__

…You have your work and nothing more…

As Christine was escorting Meg to her room, she remained silent. Her whole body was in shock. Who was this stranger? Somehow, she found that she respected Christine more now. She suddenly looked less like a damsel in distress and more like a heroine.

Christine opened a passage to the hall right outside Meg's room. She opened the door for her. Meg stepped inside and wasn't surprised when Christine didn't follow her. Meg grasped onto the door and turned to Christine, half hidden behind it.

She carefully examined her cheek. "Does it hurt?"

Christine nodded. "But the emotional pain hurts more."

Meg gathered Christine to her again. "You know where to find me… if you need me."

Christine pulled away and smiled at her friend. "I always need you."

Meg smiled back. "Can I meet her?"

Christine was confused at first before she remembered Dawn. Brushing a wisp of Meg's hair behind her ear, she looked at her friend again. "Someday."

Meg smiled. "Good day, Christine. See you at rehearsal tomorrow."

Christine smiled and kissed her dearest friend on the cheek. "See you there."

The door shut. Christine placed her hand on it for a second, unaware that on the other side Meg had mirrored her actions. Simultaneously the girl's turned and went on with their business.

-*-

The sound of the organ came to a complete halt as Erik's voice raised again.

"No Christine, you **still** aren't getting it right!"

He was slowly loosing his patience with her. Maybe it was because it was this one phrase. Maybe it was because it was the twentieth time she got it wrong. Maybe it was because it was his masterpiece. Whatever the cause, Erik was loosing his temper.

Erik was known to be a very composed tutor. He was calm was he helped Christine through all her flaws, no matter how simple or complex. He never loss face. He was always very collected over all of her errors. Never once had he ever raised his voice. But now, things were changing.

"Erik, I just _cannot _do this!" Christine snapped.

Christine too was changing. But this had nothing to do with the music. It had everything to do with Dawn. Dawn had helped her take a step that she was convinced would take several years to achieve: growing up. 

Christine never hesitated to admit to herself that she was somewhat of a child. She believed in the Angel of Music for pity's sake! She always let people take care of her. She didn't want to see the corruption and the hate and the sorrow. She wanted to let everyone else shield her from it. She hid forever. 

But Dawn forced her to grow up. She was a lost child. Although she had a backbone, she was still lost. She had been in this situation before. She and Meg were lost at first and clutched onto each other. They were the only two people who understood each other in the Ballet corps. Then, they settled in. 

But now, Christine couldn't be the other lost child. She knew too much now. And although others may hate Dawn for what she has done, Christine didn't. For once, someone told her to reach for strength instead of innocence. And Christine enjoyed being a grown up. It was wonderful to guide someone else through the world. And she couldn't help but love watching Dawn's face light up as she discovered something new. Life was changing. But this change… was definitely good. Christine the child was morphing. And the only person who didn't like it was Raoul.

In fact, Christine hadn't seen much of him since the scene in her dressing room. She still refused to be happy about agreeing with the plan. Although over time, it slipped her mind. Erik's music was so powerful that she just couldn't think about anything else.

However, she just couldn't get this one phrase right.

"Yes, you can, Christine. It's not that difficult," Erik said.

Christine flung her sheet music onto the table. "But Erik, it makes me blush so terribly."

"That is what acting is all about, Christine. _You _aren't saying this. _Aminta_ is," Erik explained.

"But it is just so lewd, Erik. I-."

Erik turned on her, her eyes flashing. "Are you calling my opera smutty?"

"No!" Christine cried, defending herself. "But who says such things, Erik?!"

"It's not so terrible, Christine. It's only nine simple words."

"Can't you change it? Please? I cannot say such things!" she pleaded.

Now, Christine's innocence was far from gone. It was merely taking a back seat. It was times like this when it came into play.

"How hard is it to say: 'How long should we two wait before we're one?'?"

"Erik… people just don't say such things!" she huffed, stamping her foot. Just by hearing the phrase, her face was tinged pink.

"Christine, you are being childish!"

"You cannot **force** me to say it!"

Dawn decided to interrupt at this point. She had been listening from the beginning. After all, the allure of both Christine and Erik's voice joined in song was just too strong for anyone. The beauty of it almost made her cry. However, things slowly turned ugly as Christine kept stumbling on 'the' line. Sighing, she stood and said.

"Both of you, please desist!" she yelled above the chaos.

Things quieted.

"Christine, Erik **is **right. You are playing a character and… this is what the character is feeling. I know it _is_ rather embarrassing to say but you must still try." She paused. "Come now, Christine, surely you can relate. Have you not ever felt that way about a man?"

"No!" Christine denied, turning crimson.

Suddenly, Erik was paying even more apt attention then before. This could get interesting… 

"Christine, although you are a virgin, you are also a woman. You cannot deny that no man has never set you on fire. That no man has never made you delve into the pools of lust."

Christine blushed. Only one man… she glanced at Erik quickly before she turned away. 

Dawn stepped up to Christine and after one try, took both of her shoulders into her hands. "Now, embody that emotion, Christine. Don't think of the sin, think of the feeling."

Dawn gave Christine's shoulders a squeeze before she returned to her chair. Sitting down she waved to Erik. "Try again."

Erik sat back down at the organ bench and Christine slowly drifted back to his side.

He started from the beginning of that verse. Christine's voice immediately sprung to life.

__

"Past all thought of right or wrong

One final question:

How long do we two wait before we're one?"

Dawn smiled. Not only had Christine pulled it off without stuttering, she had also made it completely seductive. If Dawn weren't blind, she would have seen the shudder of raw desire go through Erik.

Christine continued. Something was different about her now. Her pose had relaxed into a more sensual stature and her eyes were glazed over. But even so, her gaze was pure fire. Her voice had gone from it's innocent allure to a seductive drawl. Everything about her was now embodied with passion. She WAS Aminta. 

__

"When will the blood begin to race?

The sleeping bud burst into bloom?

When will the flames at last

Consume us…?"

Dawn was never prepared for the next part. She had heard Christine and Erik's voice both separately and together, but this was different. Their voices were so full of lust and desire that Dawn found herself uncomfortable. They drew their audience in and forced them to experience the emotion that they themselves were impassioned by.

__

"Past the point of no return

The final threshold!

The bridge is crossed

So stand and watch it burn!

We've passed the point of no return!"

After this, there was silence. Dawn had her eyes closed, her lips parted. She felt lust coursing through her veins at high speed. Christine's eyes were so dark that they seemed black. She was panting with the passion. When her eyes met Erik's, she was shocked to find him in the same disheveled shape. At first, his eyes had been closed, but the second she looked at him, they snapped open. They both felt as though their hearts were going to beat out of their chest. Desire was flowing between them, connecting them. This was the first time Erik had ever seen any emotion like this in Christine. And it excited him. It took several minutes for the two to snap back into themselves. However, both of them couldn't deny the scenarios that they had envisioned. 

It took a while for Christine to look at Erik again without blushing.

None the less, it was rather obvious the two would have some interesting dreams that night…

-*-

Ooh, STEAMY! That was _hot!_ Sorry, the best part of the chapter was imagining Erik saying smutty. C'mon, that was hysterical! It certainly fulfilled some of _my_ dreams.

ERIK: What is so great about me saying "smutty"?

CHRISTINE and CS: *swoon*

ERIK: *raises his eyebrows* Must experiment on this more later… 

CHRISTINE and CS: Experiment on me! No me! ME! ME! ERIK!

ERIK: *smirk*

RAOUL: Smutty…

CHRISTINE and CS: *pauses* Um… no… *continues to glomp Erik*

CARLOTTA: Oh, Raoul! *glomps him*

REVIEW PEOPLE OR ELSE!

-Claire Starling

__

La Brat


	16. Author's Note

Dear Dedicated Readers,  
I have some very terrible news. A couple of weeks ago my computer got a virus. It completely shut down and when we were able to reboot it, all my stories were gone. Although I had most of them saved to disk, my story Someone Like You was not. I had about five prewritten chapters not yet posted and they're all gone. It's going to take me a while to remember exactly what I wrote. I am very upset about this and I just hope you can understand when I tell you I am putting this fiction on a temporary hiatus. Thank you and keep reading.  
  
Love Always,  
Your most faithful author,  
CS 


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